


Memories

by shadowglove88



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: Still Have Powers, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Arthur is a little shit on national television, Everyone Is Gay, F/M, Gwen's heterosexuality stands no chance against Morgana's dogged persistance, He's dressing Emo right now, Jealous Arthur, Karma is a funny bitch, M/M, Magical Pregnancy, Merlin changes his fashion every couple of centuries, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin is a bartender, Merlin is a reluctant part time magician, Modern Era, Modern Royalty, Mpreg, Possessive Behavior, Reincarnation, So Merlin with guyliner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-09
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2019-07-10 08:16:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 26,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15945389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowglove88/pseuds/shadowglove88
Summary: Merlin is tired of the centuries in between reincarnations in which he's so alone, so he stops looking for Arthur, making a life for himself. And yet Arthur comes back into his life, and even without his memories Prince Arthur is playing for keeps.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Another oldy I'm migrating over to this platform.
> 
> Note: Lancelot is a little ooc because I needed a fun, flirty friend for Merlin and somehow I didn't see Will as flirty---unless it was towards Merlin.

Unlike everyone else, Merlin didn’t reincarnate.

He was ageless, he’d forgotten how old he truly was now, and how many times he’d been left behind by the others, long dead, to wait alone  _centuries_  at a time for them to be reincarnated and return, and then he’d search them out, try to befriend them and wait for their memories to return. Sometimes the memories never did return, but they made ‘new’ friendships with each other as strong as their original.

But Merlin was sick of it.

He was sick of pining, of being lonely, of always being the one searching, of being alone with only their memories, with memories of  _him_ , to keep him going.

After turning the young age of 23 while still in Arthur’s Court he’d stopped growing, eternally a youth, and yet the glamour Merlin placed on himself helped him pretend to grow old as the world did, and a timely move to ‘live with the children who live across country’ kept people from wondering why he never died. He’d just get to his destination, take off his glamour, and start anew as a young man, waiting for Arthur’s return.

But this last reincarnation had taken too long, and Merlin had given up hope.

Disgusted by himself, by the pathetic creature he’d turned into, he stopped searching diligently for Arthur or Morgana or Gwen or Lancelot---or even  _Gaius_. He’d dedicated these last three human lifetimes to himself, to studying, to working. He’d been a doctor during one of those human lifetimes, an actor in another, and in this one he’d decided to have a more laid back job and worked as the Head Barman at The Dragon’s Lair----yes, he  _did_  see the irony.

The Dragon’s Lair was a real upscale gay bar known for its celebrities, its discretion, and the hookups everyone who went there tended to enjoy by the end of the night. Merlin decided that it was time to be somewhat emo (the gods knew he’d tried every other fashion just out of boredom), and he had to admit that he like the black skinny jeans, nail polish, cuffbands and black, formfitting t-shirts.

“Hey Merlin, luv.” Janet, one of the regulars, arrived and smiled, her arm around Lacey’s waist, pulling her girlfriend to her. “When’s your night off?”

Merlin smiled at the two women. “Soon, then you buy  _me_  drinks.”

“Cheeky bugger.” Lacey laughed as she and Janet walked to the dance floor.

Chuckling in amusement at those two, Merlin continued drying the cups. The Dragon’s Lair was filled with different couples, women with their girlfriends and men with their boyfriends, or single men and women looking for those of their own sex to spend the night with…and maybe a lifetime.

Merlin couldn’t help but be relieved, once more, at how homosexuality was becoming more accepted, he’d lived through so many centuries of taboo that it was refreshing to be able to walk outside holding a partner’s hand or kiss, and not have people coming to kill them in God’s name or some crap like that.

Sure, there were still a lot of people out there that still hated gays, that found them disgusting, but with the laws around the world starting to let gays  _marry legally_ , it was only a matter of time before the whole world came around and took their heads out of their asses.

For once Merlin was glad he was eternal, because that meant he’d be alive to see it when it happened.

“Vodka on the rocks.”

The ageless warlock nearly dropped the glass at the sound of that voice. It was a voice he dreamt of every night and denied every morning, it was the voice that haunted his every memory, husky, happy, arrogant…

Taking in a calming breath, Merlin kept his eyes averted despite the intense gaze on him and hurriedly got the order on the counter before the man he didn’t want to look at---didn’t  _need_  to look at---to know who he was.

Cursing mentally, Merlin returned to drying the glasses and cups, his movements now jerky and tense.

Of course he knew that Arthur had reincarnated, he’d sensed it the moment he had finally been born, and he’d known watching the child grow up on the telly…and while his soul begged him to search Arthur out, to make contact, his heart, hurt too many times from holding Arthur’s hand as the man died, refused to.

He’d thought he’d been safe, that there was no way he, a lowly bartender, would ever run into Prince Arthur, heir to the throne of Britain. And yet he was sure that the Great Dragon’s spirit, somewhere in the great dragon hereafter, was laughing its arse off at him and sing-songing something like: ‘You can’t escape your destiny, young warlock!’

“Hey, I know you.”

Merlin looked up at Arthur in surprise, and a little fear, at those words. His heart hurt him terribly and his soul longed as his blue eyes met Arthur’s for the first time in centuries.

While Arthur was incognito, wearing a baseball cap covered by a hoodie, and a pair of shades, Merlin knew that even if he’d just crossed him on the street in this getup every fiber of Merlin’s body would have recognized him.

“You look just like Merlin Emrys, the old Hollywood actor.” Arthur’s voice had gone awed.

Merlin didn’t know why he felt disappointed when he knew he should be relieved. “Makes sense.” He shrugged, feigning indifference as he began putting the cups away. “He was my da.”

Well, actually, it’d been  _him_ , but he’d had a good cover story about having a child he didn’t want in the public eye, and that gave him a good identity for when Merlin Emrys the Emmy winner ‘died tragically’ in a plane crash while he was flying solo over the Bermuda triangle in his private jet.

“You’re his  _son_?” Arthur’s lips turned up in a huge smile. “I can’t believe it! I watched all of his films! He’s my favorite actor! Britain’s greatest treasure!”

Merlin blinked and turned his back on the young man in case he see the blush on his cheeks or hear the way his heart raced at the fact that Arthur had thought that about him. “He was a good man.”

Arthur sobered immediately. “I’m sorry, about your loss.”

And he really did mean it.

Merlin didn’t know how to react to all of this.

This was the first time that Arthur had reincarnated and Merlin  _wasn’t_  trying to get passed his prattishness (a trait that not even  _reincarnation_ could wean out of him) and become his friend. If anything, Merlin was both desperate for him to leave, and desperate for him to stay.

It was nerve-wracking.

 _I have to get him to leave, h_ e decided with a sigh and a jolt to his heart as he continued with his work. “So, I doubt King Uther knows you like to sneak out of Buckingham and enter random bars.”

There was surprised, tense silence.

Merlin closed his eyes and waited for the sound of Arthur leaving. The royal family were known for being very cloistered, they hardly ever mingled, mostly thanks to King Uther, who had lost his wife to an assassination plot against him and since then had overprotected his son and daughter, never letting them go anywhere without guards.

 _An army_  of guards.

So Arthur would be wise to get up and leave now that he knew a strange man had found him out.

And yet the sounds of footsteps leaving never came.

“So, you know who I am, huh.” Arthur sighed, resigned. “I  _told_  Morgana this getup was idiotic but she swore that this was how she dressed to go unnoticed when she wanted to sneak out and just be  _human_.”

Merlin’s heart tugged at those words.

How many times had he held Arthur close as the young man carried the burdens of a whole kingdom on his young shoulders? How many times had Arthur just held him tightly, commanding him softly to never leave him because he wouldn’t be able to survive without him?

_Stop thinking about that at a time like this!_

Clearing his throat, Merlin turned to Arthur once more. “Well I don’t think anyone else has recognized you, or you wouldn’t be here all alone in my corner. So maybe Princess Morgana’s idea wasn’t too bad, and I’m just a bit more perceptive than others.”

Princess Morgana was Arthur’s half sister, born only a year after him. No matter how many times they were reincarnated, Morgana and Arthur were always related somehow, mostly siblings.

Arthur was eyeing him oddly. “What’s your name?”

“Merlin, actually, named after my father.” Feeling fidgety under that gaze, it took all of his courage to not shy away from those intense blue eyes. “Merlin Emrys.”

“Merlin Emrys.” Arthur suddenly grinned. “How ironic, don’t you think? I’m Prince Arthur, and you’re Merlin.” His grin was cheeky as he waggled his eyebrows. “Got the magic touch,  _Mer_ lin?”

If Merlin hadn’t known for a fact that Arthur was as good as engaged to Lady Sophia Denton, and horrendously straight in this lifetime (which really made him wonder if Arthur realized exactly what sort of people The Dragon’s Lair catered to) Merlin would have thought that Arthur was  _flirting_  with him.

“Only in secret,” he replied with a grin despite being completely truthful.

“Merlin!” A familiar voice called.

Merlin looked up and grinned. “Lance!”

Lancelot was about the only person from his past that he was in contact with during this lifetime, and that was because they’d met up at work. Lancelot was Merlin’s right hand man, both working most of the same nights, and they rented flats in the same building, so they’d become good friends without Merlin even  _trying_.

Lancelot’s flatmate had then left for Africa as a missionary, and the young man had offered the room to Merlin. And Merlin, hungry for some friendship and a link to the past, had accepted, moving into the flat at the end of the month when his lease was up.

Despite the fact that Lancelot didn’t remember his past, Merlin was happy. It made things like this easier.

“No one’s come and stolen you away while I was out buying more ice?” Lancelot teased as he went behind the counter, a large bag of ice over his shoulder.

“They tried.” Merlin’s face was twisted in a smile. “They really did. But I put up a brave fight.”

“Good man,” Lancelot replied mock-seriously as he opened the container they kept the ice in and opened the bag, pouring the ice within. Finished with his work he turned to them and wiped his hands on his pants, finally noticing Arthur, who’d been oddly silent. “Who’s this?”

“Customer.” Merlin shrugged, doubting Arthur wanted anyone else knowing his real identity.

“How  _cold_  Merlin. And how utterly  _unlike_  you to not know the whole life story of any cute guy to come in through these doors.” Flinging an arm around Merlin and giving him an affectionate squeeze, Lancelot turned his attention on Arthur, who’d gone tense.

Merlin guessed he hadn’t realized that Merlin was gay and the news was shocking to him.

“Merlin here, is the Head Barman, and true to the stereotype, everyone wants to shag him.” Lancelot was enjoying himself greatly for some evil reason as he spoke to Arthur. “Even the birds around here feel tempted to go straight again for him.”

“Cut it out.” Merlin grumbled, elbowing Lancelot in the ribs and escaping his hold. He looked up when a customer came to the counter and tended to the guy with a smile, exchanging a few words and getting a business card before the man walked off.

“See that?” Lancelot was telling Arthur. “Normal occurrence. He keeps ‘em cards in stashes under the bed. I  _try_  tell him he’s messing up my home, to just throw them away or burn them on the cold winter nights, but will he?  _No_. He’s too much of a softie.”

“Stop defaming my name.” Pocketing the card, Merlin threw a towel at Lancelot’s head, amused when the other barman caught it without even looking in his direction, still talking to Arthur.

“What’s that?” Arthur spoke finally, eyes glued on the inside of Merlin’s arm.

Heart racing, Merlin suddenly wished he’d worn a long sleeved t-shirt to hide that.

“What, the tat?” Lancelot asked.

“It’s nothing.” Merlin turned his back on them, straightening things that didn’t need straightening.

“You really  _are_  closed-lipped tonight, mate.” Lancelot snorted, shaking his head, before turning to Arthur. “It’s runic. Means  _Arthur Pendragon_. He’s also got another tat on him, of a dragon, looks like an ancient family crest of some sort, it’s wicked awesome.”

Merlin was going to  _kill_  Lancelot.

“Arthur Pendragon?” Arthur asked, voice odd.

“Yeah, you know, like the king? Bloody ol’ King Arthur and his round table, cheating wife, and very good looking knights?” Lance was definitely enjoying himself. “You see, Merlin’s da was named after the wizard himself, and named Merlin after  _the_   _Merlin_  too. So Merlin’s always had a little  _thing_  for King Arthur.”

This time the towel hit Lancelot on the side of his face.

“Oi! That was uncalled for!” Lancelot complained, tearing the wet cloth from him face and tossing it back at Merlin before returning his attention to Arthur. “I think it’s destiny, really. I mean, not many Lancelots and Merlins out there and yet here we are, two of us, working together and living together to boot.”

“Lancelot.” Arthur’s narrowed his eyes slightly, frowning, concentrating. “Wasn’t he the no-good traitor who stole the person the King loved the most from him?”

Merlin always winced when he heard of the story Geoffrey had made up. “Well, in  _some_  fables, older ones, while there’d been an initial attraction, Lancelot wasn’t with Gwen at all, she was actually with  _Morgana_.”

“Morgana Le Fey and Queen Guinevere?” Lancelot chuckled, turning to him. “They’d probably be customers of ours then if they lived today, wouldn’t they?”

“What did you call her?” Arthur suddenly asked.

Merlin looked up, confused. “Huh?”

“Queen Guinevere.” Arthur’s eyes narrowed. “You called her  _Gwen_.”

“Really?” Merlin suddenly looked away, feeling himself blanche. “Musta been a slip of the tongue.”

“He’s a history buff, mate.” Lancelot continued to supply Arthur with all the information Merlin was trying desperately to keep secret. “You should see him when he’s pissed! He can’t keep his liquor, this one, and he’ll start telling you all these stories about Camelot and Albion and King Arthur and everyone from that time as if he were alive when it happened.”

Merlin turned to look at Lancelot in horror.

Had he  _truly_  done that when he was drunk?

Why hadn’t Lancelot commented on it before?

Arthur’s mobile began to ring, and Merlin’s heart skipped a beat when he recognized it as Cannon in D. In one of Arthur’s past lives Merlin had confessed to him how he loved this piece of music. Arthur had scoffed at him, not a fan of Pachelbel himself…and yet here he was, using it as a ringtone.

“What made you choose that specific song?” Merlin found himself asking.

Arthur looked up. “I---uh---I’m not actually sure. To be truthful, I don’t even like it.” He cleared his throat and looked down at the caller ID. “It’s just that, as a child, when I was feeling lonely and sad, this was the only thing that gave me hope, made me happy.”

Merlin’s black fingernails bit into the skin of his palm at those softly spoken words.

Arthur’s gaze was on Merlin.

Merlin’s gaze was on the floor, a multitude of feelings warring within him.

Lancelot looked from one to the other and then cleared his throat. “You going to answer that, mate?”

Arthur tore his gaze from Merlin and nodded somewhat mechianically, before flipping the lid open and pressing it to his ear. “Morgana?” Arthur asked. “Okay, thanks.” Snapping the lid of his mobile closed, Arthur got up and fished out a couple of bills, placing them on the counter. “I have to go.”

Merlin nodded, picking up the money, frowning. “You’ve overpaid. By  _a lot_.”

“Think of it as the beginning of a tab or something,” Arthur replied, surprising him.

“Tab?” Merlin looked up at him, lips parted slightly in surprise.

Arthur smirked at him before leaving, walking out of The Dragon’s Lair, hands shoved deep in his pockets.

Lancelot came up next to Merlin and rested his chin on his shoulder as he wolf whistled. “Couldn’t get a good look at that one, but you could tell he’s handsome.” He turned to Merlin with a grin. “Why do  _you_  always get the hunks? Is it the mascara?”

Laughing despite the pain in his heart at Arthur’s departure, Merlin shook his head at his friend. “You’re acting as if you really think he’s going to come back here.”

“Course he is.” Lancelot blinked, confused. “Why wouldn’t he?”

Merlin then remembered that Lancelot hadn’t any idea who Arthur was. “He won’t, just trust me. Anyway, he’s  _straight_.”

Lancelot snorted as he pushed away. “His gaze was  _eating you up!_  If  _he’s_  straight then  _so am I_!” He folded his arms over his chest. “He’ll be back, you’ll see.”

Merlin shook his head and continued working trying to get Arthur out of his head, and trying to tell himself he was satisfied with having seen him once, if only for this short amount of time.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It’d been two weeks since he’d seen Arthur.

Not that he was counting.

“Are you  _still_  chatting to him?” Merlin asked, putting down the book he just couldn’t finish and strolling over to where Lancelot was typing furiously on the keyboard of his laptop. And when Merlin said  _furiously_  he didn’t mean  _rapidly,_  he meant  _angrily_ , because Lancelot was a piss-poor typist.

“Ya.” Lancelot looked up from where he’d misspelled yet another word, groaning as he backspaced and spelt it again, slowly, carefully… _slowly_.

“What’s so great about him then?” Merlin wanted to know, leaning his hip against the desk and peering at the conversation taking place on googletalk. “Will-I-Am” He snorted. “Coulda been a little more original.”

“Oh hush.” Lancelot smiled. “Not  _everyone_  can be Merlin: Gay Sorcerer Extraordinaire.”

Merlin groaned. “You don’t  _still_  have me signed on with that screenname, do you?”

Minimizing the chat window, Lancelot pointed to his contacts list, which read  **Merlin: Gay Sorcerer Extraordinaire…is offline** _ **.**_  Smirking at Merlin’s groan, Lancelot grinned and maximized the conversation once more in time to receive Will-I-Am’s response.

Merlin watched his friend in silence as Lancelot chuckled to himself and began typing back, which was a show in itself. Lancelot had always scoffed when people would talk about finding love on the internet, and then he’d met Will-I-Am. and he was pathetically infatuated.

It was funny as hell to watch, but lately, especially since Arthur’s appearance in The Dragon’s Lair, Merlin couldn’t help but feel a little envious. He was glad that Lancelot had found someone who made him so happy, but seeing his friend like this only reminded him of how alone  _he_  was.

He didn’t like the reminder.

He was going to have to do something about it.

“I think I’m going to call him.”

“Hoodie guy?” Lancelot looked up, grinning, referring to Arthur. “It’s about  _time_.”

“What?  _No_. He didn’t leave his number.” Not that Merlin had  _wanted_  him to. “ _Demarco_.”

Lancelot’s grin morphed into a frown, fingers stilling on the keyboard, eyes narrowed. “Dennis Demarco?”

“What’s wrong with Dennis? You’ve never had any complaints about him before. You even encouraged me to flirt more with him.”

“He’s a big tipper,” Lancelot defended his past actions, before taking in a deep breath. “Okay, look, the chap’s good looking and all, and his da  _is_  a member of the Parliament who is fighting for gay rights and gay marriage, but—but--.”

“ _But_?” Merlin folded his arms over his chest.

Lancelot frowned. “I don’t know, Mer, I just don’t like the thought of you two together. It doesn’t seem  _right_.” He paused. “You’re destined for better things.”

Merlin flinched, as he usually did whenever Lancelot used that word. “I make my  _own_  destiny, Lance, and I want my own Will-I-Am.”

Lancelot’s smile returned somewhat at that as he sent his gaze at the computer and back. “You know, you can’t trust internet relationships much. He says he’s a little younger than me, around your age, but he  _could_  very well be some perverted, fat old man with a beer gut and a taste for devilishly handsome young men.”

Merlin grinned, laughing somewhat. “ _Or_  he could be a dashingly good looking man with a great heart who is just looking for his soulmate.”

Lance grinned brighter. “I prefer your theory.”

“Me too,” Merlin agreed. “And I want to find me one too.”

Lance sighed and then nodded. “Okay Merlin, if you think Demarco could be that for you, you have my total support.” He then grinned mischievously. “And think about it, if they allow gay marriages here, you could marry him and be his housewife! You wouldn’t have to work another day!”

Merlin swatted at the back of Lancelot’s head. “Behave, you.”

“I try.” Lancelot laughed as he returned his attention to the computer.

“No you don’t,” Merlin countered, going towards his cellular and browsing through the numbers within.

“You know me too well.” And then Lancelot laughed at something Will-I-Am had written and forgot all about Merlin.

The ageless warlock smiled at the back of his friend’s head, found  _D. Demarco_  in his contacts, and pressed  _send_ , telling himself that he was  _not_ making some huge mistake.

* * *

 

He’d made a mistake.

He’d made a  _huge ass_  mistake.

Looking around the large room, Merlin tried to merge into the wall.

The impromptu date had been going quite well until Dennis’ father had phoned saying that he’d forgotten something at home and asked Dennis to use his spare keys to bring it to him at the function he was attending at the palace. Merlin didn’t even know how Dennis had gotten them into Buckingham as easily as he had, and he didn’t know why he’d allowed Dennis to convince him to come along instead of just heading back home.

So here he was, in one of the waiting rooms, pacing, nervous, waiting for Dennis to come back from where he’d gone searching for his father.

This had been a  _bad bad_  idea.

Fingering his visitor’s special permission badge, Merlin went to lean against the wall, arms folded over his chest, shaking his foot anxiously. He shouldn’t be here, so close to danger.

So close to Arthur.

Groaning, he ran his hands through his hair and decided he needed a smoke. But he couldn’t very well pull out a fag and light it in a visiting room in fucking  _Buckingham_ , could he?

That was when he sensed it.

Head jerking up, Merlin strode towards the door and opened it, sticking his head out and looking both ways before following the feeling, unable to believe it, yet desperate for it to be so.

“You  _stupid woman_!” A man was growling at a woman on her knees, picking up a tray of appetizers and finger foods. “That’s it! You’re fired!” He kicked at the food on the ground and stormed away.

The woman had her back to Merlin, her hair up in dark curls, her shoulders slumped. She looked about to cry as her hands stilled over the upturned food.

Merlin froze, unable to believe it.

 _Gwen_?

He cleared his throat, going towards her, rapidly. His best friend,  _Gwen_ , she was here, now. “Are you okay?”

Gwen looked up at him, eyes puffy and red, barely able to keep her tears at bay.

“He was a real jerk, he had no right to treat you like that.” Merlin fumed at the man who’d obviously been her boss, helping her put the ruined delicacies into the tray. “Where I work things like this happen all the time, but Mr. Hurt never treats anyone like this. Doesn’t even dock it from our paycheck.”

Wiping at her tears, Gwen dried her hands on the uniform that proved she had been working for the catering company assigned to this event. Her smile was a little watery but completely genuine. “Thank you. You didn’t have to---.”

“I’m Merlin.” He brushed his hands off and offered one to her.

She hesitated for a moment before shaking it. “Gwen.” She slumped back down looking at the tray of destroyed food. “This was my second job too, you know. I’ve been messing up so  _badly_  lately, and I really need the money.”

Merlin was silent, feeling she needed to get this off of her chest.

“My father died a month ago, and I discovered he had a bit of a gambling debt I didn’t know anything about.” She brought the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Dogs, horses…he gambled on it all, and the only thing he had to show for it was the loan sharks at his funeral telling me I’m expected to pay off his debt for him.”

Merlin frowned, angered and protective, remembering the girl who’d once been his one true friend, who’d helped him get into the rhythm of life in Camelot. She had a heart of gold, and the thought of someone threatening her for something she didn’t do, threatening her in general, it angered him.

He had countless lifetimes of savings he ‘inherited’ during each new life, he  _could_  pay off the debt for her…

But he knew Gwen, she wouldn’t accept charity, that’d never changed during her lives.

But maybe…

Fumbling in his pocket, Merlin pulled out his wallet and fished around the many slots before finding the card he was looking for and offering it to her.

Intrigued, Gwen took it and looked at it, reading the large golden words out loud. “The Dragon’s Lair?”

“It’s where I work,” Merlin offered, giving her a smile. “It’s a bar uptown, and if you don’t mind having women hitting on you---we’re looking for a new waitress, Kayla left for L.A. to try her luck at acting and left us shorthanded. The pay mightn’t be what you’re getting here, but it’s decent and the tips are generous.”

Gwen blinked before returning her gaze back to the card, looking more intrigued. “Thank you. I---I’ll maybe stop by to look at the place? I---you work at a lesbian bar?” She suddenly grinned. “Wouldn’t the women want only women there?”

“Well, it’s a gay bar, the men who go there look for other men and the women go to check out the ladies, so we have a mixed staff for each tastes.” Merlin grinned cheekily. “I’ll have you know I’m somewhat of a favorite there amongst  _both_  sexes.”

She giggled, the tears that’d been in her eyes now long forgotten. “I can see why.” She took his hand when he offered it to her and helped her to her feet. “Thank you, Merlin.”

“You’re welcome.” He gave a little wave as she slowly walked away, looking behind her at him a couple of times contemplatively before disappearing around the corner.

“That was genuinely nice of you,” a voice said behind him.

Jerking, Merlin’s eyes widened when he saw the female emerging from the shadows, decked in all her glory. “Princess Morgana.”

“Merlin, right? That’s what you said your name was?” Morgana was just as beautiful as always, her eyes just as sharp and wise as always. “I got tired of the pomp and noise of the party and decided to take refuge out here. I saw what happened to that poor girl---it was that man who bumped into  _her_  that caused her to drop her things. I was going to point that out to him and tell him how the royal house doesn’t approve of one treating one’s employees in such a way, but you were there to comfort the girl.”

“I only did what anyone would have done.” Merlin was itching to get away. While Morgana had always been the only one who truly understood him when it came to the magic within him, and he’d always valued her friendship and insight, Morgana was always a part of Arthur, and he couldn’t have anything to do with Arthur.

He couldn’t go through this again.

He just  _couldn’t_.

“I don’t think you were on the invite list.” And yet Morgana was smiling at him, as if she knew a secret he didn’t and she relished it.

“I---I came with my date.” Merlin didn’t understand why her face fell immediately. “His father asked him to bring him something he’d forgotten and Dennis asked me to come with him so our date wouldn’t be ruined.”

“Dennis.” Morgana’s eyes darkened. “Dennis  _Demarco_?”

Merlin nodded, wondering if Morgana liked Demarco. He couldn’t think of any other reason for why she would seem so bothered by this news.

“Dennis Demarco isn’t the most sensible of men, Merlin, there are many  _superior_  men out there, you could do better.” Morgana dashed his theory to smithereens with that comment. She gazed at Merlin through her eyelashes. “You’re the son of Merlin Emrys, are you not? My brother met you when he finally butched up and snuck out a couple of weeks ago.”

He nodded, not trusting his voice.

Morgana’s lips curled in a smile as she looped her arm around his. “My brother has your father’s every movie, he especially adored  _In The Mists of Time_.”

Merlin smiled. “That was my favorite as well.” He’d enjoyed doing that role. His agent had been against him playing a homosexual character, afraid of how it’d affect his  _image_ , but Merlin had enjoyed the story of Spanish conquistador who’d stumbled into a land forgotten by time and who fell in love with the son of the chief of the tribe that inhabited the land.

It hadn’t hurt that Thomas Bailey, the man playing the chief’s son, had looked very much like Arthur.

Even after the filming had wrapped, Thomas and Merlin had been close, a friendship that’d transformed into a discreet relationship. Merlin hadn’t loved Thomas, not really, not like Arthur,  _never_  like Arthur, but he’d cared for him and while they’d been together Merlin had been able to push away his longing for Arthur to the back of his head.

“I think it was extremely brave of your father to star in such a film during those days,” Morgana told him seriously. “The taboo that was homosexuality, he was a real pioneer in helping people accept gays as being normal, the fact that  _he_  played a gay character really made a lot of people stop and think.”

“I take it you’re in support of the bill to legalize gay marriages?” Merlin steered the conversation away from himself, feeling a little more relaxed now. He’d always loved debating with Morgana, and truth be told, he’d missed her sharp wit and intriguing conclusions terribly.

Morgana nodded. “Mind you, my father isn’t of the same mind.” She made up her nose. “He believes that homosexuality is going against god, is  _unnatural_. If he had his own way he’d probably ban homosexuality from the land.”

Merlin snorted, thinking that no matter how many lifetimes Uther lived, he’d always be a prejudiced bastard---and his prejudices would  _always_  be an obstacle for Merlin and Arthur.

Not---not that there  _was_  any Merlin and Arthur now!

“So, are you and Dennis partners?” Morgana’s gaze sidled towards him, letting him know this was important somehow.

“No, this was actually our first date,” he admitted, not sure why she looked relieved and pleased with his answer. “To be truthful, my friend Lance has this boyfriend online that he’s utterly in love with, and I was somewhat envious of that.”

“So you thought maybe Dennis could be your soulmate.” Morgana nodded sagely, giving Merlin’s arm a little squeeze. “Let me give you some advice, Merlin. Don’t settle.” She then paused. “You know what Arthur and I found so amusing?” She grinned like a conspirator at Merlin. “We’re all named after the Arthurian legends. You, Arthur, this Lancelot friend of yours, and me too.” She sent him a coy look. “Destiny maybe?”

Merlin flinched and looked away, smile disappearing from his lips at that blasted word.

It was like it was  _stalking_  him or something.

“Did I say something wrong?” She sounded worried.

“Morgana!” They could hear a voice calling in annoyance for her. “Father sent me---!”

Merlin froze, tensing up immediately, forced to turn when Morgana did and stare upon Arthur’s face as the prince rounded the corner, having heard Morgana’s voice and followed it to where they were.

Arthur froze the moment he noticed the man in black standing with his arm looped around his sister’s. A millions emotions raced through that unguarded face, and then he grinned brightly, coming towards him. “ _Mer_ lin!” He clapped his hand down on the warlock’s shoulder in a friendly greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“Keeping me company.” Morgana pouted at Arthur, but seemed more amused than put out. “I found him wandering the halls. Apparently his date was interrupted when Dennis got a call from his father asking him to bring him something.”

Arthur’s face fell, the hand on Merlin’s shoulder tensing, tightening its grip. “Dennis  _Demarco_?”

Morgana nodded.

Merlin frowned, looking between the siblings.

Why did it seem as if they were having a whole private conversation in front of him?

“ _Talking_  about Dennis,” Merlin eased out of their holds, clearing his throat nervously, he clasped his hands together in front of him and began to back away slowly. “I should probably get back to the waiting room he left me in. He should be back any second now.”

“Where did you buy your clothes?” Morgana blindsided him with the rapid change of topic as she came towards him and looped her arm around his once more. “I  _love_  the skinny jeans, and I have to admit, I have most of Cobra Starship’s music.”

Merlin’s gaze went automatically at his tight black shirt, with the band’s name on it, and then back up at Morgana with a surprised smirk. “ _Really_?”

“My favorite is probably The Church of Hot Addiction,” Morgana admitted, beginning to lead Merlin back towards the waiting room.

Merlin sent a discreet glance over his shoulder at Arthur, blushed scarlet when the prince caught him looking, and then quickly returned his attention to Morgana. “My favorite’s The City Is At War.”

“Good one.” Morgana smiled as they reached the door of the waiting room. “Now, about that store.”

He gave her the name of the clothes stores he usually frequented, doubting she’d ever really go there. She was a princess after all, and he doubted she’d ever really be able to go out and buy the sorts of clothes those stores sold.

Merlin really felt sorry for Morgana and Arthur. In every lifetime they were born and raised under Uther’s dictatorship. They’d never really known what it was like to live their own lives freely, to do what they wanted.

“So,” Arthur cleared his throat, drawing the attention back to him. “ _Mer_ lin,” he drew a strand of hair out of his face. “How has work been treating you?”

It looked as if he’d been about to say something else and yet had changed his mind at the last second, and Merlin was intrigued, wondering what the prince would have asked if he hadn’t chickened out.

“Great,” Merlin answered, reminding himself that this was small talk, things people did so that conversations didn’t fall into uncomfortable silences.

The door opened. “Merlin!” Dennis smiled. “I wondered where you’d gone off to!” His eyes widened when he saw Morgana and Arthur. “Your Highnesses.” He cleared his throat, nervous and yet happy to see them. “It’s a pleasure to see you two again.”

Morgana raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I’m sure.”

Arthur didn’t respond, face gone dark.

Merlin was shocked at the sudden change in the two royals.

“Don’t you have something you need to be doing, Dennis?” Arthur asked, sneer on his face. “Like actually  _working_  instead of sponging off of your father?”

Dennis went beet red.

Merlin’s eyes narrowed.

Arthur didn’t notice, sneering smugly at the other man. “Run along now, we’re in the middle of something. Didn’t your mother ever teach you it’s rude to interrupt?”

Dennis lowered his gaze, embarrassment obvious.

Morgana raised an eyebrow at Arthur.

“You utter _prat_!” Merlin exclaimed, not understanding  _why_  he was so surprised during every reincarnation to find Arthur such a condescending, arrogant  _prat_.

Arthur’s sneer washed off of his face, replaced by surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I can’t believe you!” Merlin glared. “Is this how you treat your subjects? If so, you’ll be a  _shitty_  king. You’re an utter  _arse_!”

“Hey!” Arthur sputtered, indignant, a soft shade of pink coloring his cheeks. “You can’t speak to me like that! Don’t you  _know_  who I am?”

Morgana groaned and shook her head.

“Yes, you’re a  _prat._ ” Merlin wondered how many lifetimes they were going to have this conversation. “And a  _royal_  one at that,  _sire_.”

Arthur’s mouth opened and closed repeatedly.

Shaking his head at the prince, Merlin turned and grabbed Dennis’ hand. “Come on, we can still make the movie if we hurry.”

Dennis let himself be dragged away out of Buckingham and to his car. They went to the movie and then out to eat after that, but when Merlin was dropped home he gave the other man a polite thanks for the night and retired to find Lancelot still on the computer.

“How did it go?” Lancelot asked, not looking up from where he was typing.

“Great,” Merlin grumbled as he collapsed on the sofa, still in somewhat of a mood. He’d been fuming over Arthur throughout the whole date, and he felt somewhat guilty because that’d been the only thing he’d spoken about to poor Dennis.

He doubted they would be going out on another date after the disastrous one they’d had tonight.

Lancelot twirled around in his seat and eyed Merlin in concern. “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” He grabbed a cushion and laid down on the sofa, reaching for the remote. “I think I’m just going to watch some telly. Get my mind off of it.”

“Okay. But if you wanna talk, I’m here, mate.”

“Thanks.” Merlin smiled before turning on the television.

Lancelot soon logged off of his chat and joined him, watching a Mr. Bean marathon with him, and Merlin smiled, knowing that his friend had stopped chatting with Will-I-Am to keep Merlin company.

“You’re a good friend, Lance,” he told the handsome brunet.

“Yeah, and I’m good looking, too.” Lance smiled teasingly.

“Course, there’s always that.” Merlin smiled back, returning his attention to the television.

Tonight had been disastrous, but it’d also worked in his favor. After this Arthur wouldn’t even  _think_  about going to The Dragon’s Lair again. Merlin was free of him.

He’d never see him again---unless it was on the telly.

Merlin closed his eyes tightly.

It was what he’d wanted…

…so why did his heart hurt so much?


	3. Chapter 3

Watching Lancelot and Gwen laughing together as they worked behind the counter, Merlin smiled. Those two had gotten along smashingly since the moment he’d introduced them (as was to be expected) and while there’d been a moment’s attraction on Gwen’s part, it’d disappeared the moment Lancelot mentioned Will-I-Am, and an easy friendship had formed during the past four days.

Despite it being his night off, Merlin found himself in The Dragon’s Lair, having Gin and Tonic, chatting with the regulars and enjoying not having to work. He moved around the bar, exchanging a few words and smiles with everyone, before finding himself talking to Edwin Murdock. Despite being the reincarnation of the Edwin from Camelot, this Edwin wasn’t scarred from trying to save his mother from the stake, and while he was against Uther’s strong views on homosexuality, Edwin was a happy doctor, and a nice fellow to boot.

Merlin had always known, even in Camelot, that if that tragedy hadn’t happened in Edwin’s past he would have been friends with him.

“I think the number of women in here have doubled since Gwen came to work.” Edwin’s lips were curved in amusement as he surveyed the place. “She’s pretty popular. John said that you found her and asked him to give her a trial. Wherever did you find her?”

Edwin and Mr. Hurt were friends, and it was through Edwin’s friendship with Merlin’s boss that Merlin had gotten to know him. “Well, I was at a party the company she was working for was catering to, and after a couple of events that proved she wouldn’t be happy there, I offered her a job here. She arrived the next day and Mr. Hurt agreed to give her the job after a day’s trial.”

“You always have been a good judge of character,” Edwin murmured to himself.

Merlin smirked, thinking about how it’d taken him  _centuries_  to learn that trait after years and years of always misjudging characters and ending up in trouble because of it.

And anyway, this was  _Gwen_ , he’d  _known_  that she would do a great job and dedicate herself completely to whatever it is she did.

Plus, the easy, friendly environment of The Dragon’s Lair would be good for her.

It already  _was_.

The worry lines on her face had disappeared in the days she’d been working here, replaced by an ever ready smile that lit up the place and attracted the women customers like bees to succulent honey.

 _Now, if only I can find a way of helping her with those loan sharks without her figuring out it was me_.

Merlin’s thoughts were interrupted, though, when he sensed it, and his gaze went to the door the second before it opened, light streaming in from the lights outside and backlighting two figures.

His whole body went stiff in shock as Morgana and Arthur entered the establishment. They looked nothing like they normally did.

Morgana wore the tiniest black mini skirt he’d ever seen, with gothic like see-through frills on the bottom, a tight black shirt that said “Suck You”, red and white striped arm warmers, surprisingly stylish and feminine combat boots and her eyes were darkly lined with kohl.

She was immediately the center of attention of all the women in the bar, and she seemed to gloat with smugness as she bumped her shoulder into Arthur’s.

Arthur, on the other hand, didn’t look as comfortable (or comfortable  _at all_ ) in his getup as she did. It was obvious that somehow Morgana had not only managed to sneak out of the castle and go to the stores Merlin had told her about, but that she’d dragged her brother along and bought him some clothes  _too_.

The prince was just as unrecognizable as his sister to his people in tight black pants, blood-red shirt with a white dragon taking flight stenciled on the front, black jacket, and his hair messy and in his face.

Merlin had to keep from colliding with a couple of customers, so distracted he was as his gaze slid up and down Arthur in an admittedly hungry way. While Merlin himself had only really become an emo because it was one of the only fashions he had yet to try, and then he’d grown to like it, he’d never gotten this  _gut-wrenching_  appreciation for skinny jeans before.

Both royals-undercover were scanning the inside of the establishment, and Morgana’s gaze found him first, her face lighting up as she grinned and motioned him over.

“You know them?” Edwin asked Merlin, leaning close to him to be heard over the music and placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Sometimes I really don’t think I do,” Merlin replied truthfully, a little dazedly, as he tore his eyes off of Arthur when the blonde turned in his direction. “I should go say hello.”

“Sure.” Edwin nodded, clapping his back.

It took Merlin a while to reach Morgana and Arthur. He was waylaid every step by some customer or the other, and while he smiled and exchanged words and/or flirtations with them out of force of habit, he couldn’t help but get a little annoyed that they were in his way to get to Arthur.

And then he got annoyed with himself when he realized how anxious he was to get to Arthur.

Right as he was about to reach them he paused, horrified.

Morgana was leaning with her hip against the bar, smiling coyly and looking up through her lashes at an obviously blushing Gwen. Merlin knew right then that he was doomed. In  _every single lifetime_  Morgana and Gwen ended up together.

 _Every single one_.

If they’d just met it meant it was only a matter of time before they got together.

It was destiny.

And one just couldn’t fight destiny.

And if Morgana got with Gwen, there was  _no way_  he could lead a life that didn’t have Arthur Pendragon in it one way or the other.

Of course, at the moment, Merlin was conveniently forgetting that in every single lifetime Arthur and  _he_  ended up together or what  _that_ said about his chances of  _not_  ending up with the handsome prince.

“Merlin luv!” Lacey arrived by his side, curling her arms around his and drawing his attention to her. “Janet and I were wondering if you’d have that drink with us.”

Merlin raised an amused eyebrow at the pretty redhead.

It was common knowledge that she and Janet were interested in either a threesome or a triad relationship with a male, and for some reason they’d decided they wanted the male to be  _him_. He didn’t know  _why_. Sure, he could understand why they trusted him with this, but he was  _gay_. Shouldn’t they want someone who was completely into women for this sort of relationship or one night stand, or whatever?

“Come  _on_  Merlin.” Lacey pressed her breast into his arm. “You  _said_  that on your night off you’d have drinks with us!” Her grin then went evil. “ _Janet’s_  buying.”

Merlin couldn’t help it. He threw his head back and laughed.

 _Gods_ , he enjoyed this life!

“ _Mer_ lin.”

They both looked up at the barely restrained anger in that voice.

Lacey’s eyes went wide as her gaze rested on Arthur, who’d somehow made it to their side in a matter of seconds. “Wow. You’re a looker.” She turned to Merlin and pushed away, pouting, slapping his arm playfully. “You never  _told_  us you were taken! Bad boy!”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he tore his gaze off of the surprisingly accusing expression on Arthur’s face and turned to Lacey. “ _Taken_?” He squeaked the word. “We’re not--!”

“Oh  _shut up_ ,  _Mer_ lin.” Arthur growled, flinging an arm around his waist and pulling the surprised warlock up against him, before turning to Lacey and giving her a charming smile. “It’s still a new thing.”

“Ah.” Lacey nodded, understanding, smile bright. “Janet and I were like that in the beginning of our relationship, not exactly sure where we stood with each other and all of that.” She looked from a blushing, wide-eyed Merlin to a smug, smirking Arthur, and grinned brighter. “Take care of him, okay? He’s a jewel.”

Arthur nodded regally.

Sending a friendly wink in Merlin’s direction, Lacey sauntered off to tell her girlfriend of the unforeseen development in Merlin’s love life.

Merlin watched her leave in a daze, unable to understand what exactly had just happened, but when Arthur’s arm around him tightened it jolted him out of his near trance and he pushed Arthur away, or, well, he  _tried_  to push him away. He had  _arms of steel_. The bugger didn’t even  _budge_. Not even an  _inch._

Merlin was going to have to use  _magic_  if he wanted to get away!

“Let  _go,_  you prat,” he grumbled, resolving to glare at the prince.

“How  _cold_ , Merlin.” The prince tsked. “You’ve got to be the  _worst_  bartender  _ever_.” Arthur was smirking at him, tightening his hold and bringing him in closer.

“I have a whole establishment that would testify to the contrary.” Merlin had  _wanted_  to sound snappish but it came out petulant and somewhat breathless, but who could blame him? He was always somewhat stupid when it came to being close to Arthur. “They think I’m an  _excellent_ bartender.”

“Nah, they just want to get in your pants.”

Merlin was caught between the desire to knock him out, or laugh. “They probably do,” ye finally agreed.

Arthur smiled at him.

Realizing he was in  _way_  over his head, Merlin cleared his throat and looked away pointedly at the mingled sound of Morgana and Gwen’s laughter. “ _So_ , what exactly are you and your sister doing here?”

“I told you I was coming back. Morgana wanted to come along and see where it was you worked.” Arthur shrugged. “Did you open that tab for me?”

“No. I didn’t think you’d be coming back.”

“But I told you I was.” Arthur’s eyes were narrowed in confusion.

“I—just---,” he couldn’t think straight with Arthur holding him like this, so close he knew the blonde could feel his racing heartbeat. “Will you let go?”

Arthur seemed to think it over for a second. “No.”

Merlin’s mouth fell open. “ _No_?”

“Yes.” Arthur nodded.

“So you  _will_  let me go?” Merlin was beginning to get confused.

“No.” Arthur grinned.

He was obviously enjoying this.

Merlin narrowed his eyes, wondering if he could get arrested for kicking the royal shin.

“Merlin!” John Hurt came out from the back room and paused, looking at Arthur, recognizing him in seconds. His smile then lit up and he gave Merlin a knowing look before clearing his throat. “Merlin, my young warlock, I’ve been getting some requests for another show of yours. I know it’s your night off, but I  _will_  pay you for it.”

Merlin winced.

A couple of weeks ago there’d been a little quake and his magic had reacted instinctively, causing all the silverware and breakables in the place to  _levitate_. It’d meant that nothing in The Dragon’s Lair had been damaged, but also it meant that the customers and workers had seen him use magic…and he’d had to say he was studying to be the next Criss Angel.

Since then, every couple of nights he’d put on a little show to ‘show’ everyone how his ‘lessons’ were going, and while he enjoyed it usually, he was worried about doing it in front of Arthur.

“Warlock?” Arthur asked oddly.

“Yes, our young Merlin here is magic.” Mr. Hurt smiled benevolently. “Come, watch for yourself.”

Having magic shows in bars wasn’t exactly something common, but this was one of the oddities that made The Dragon’s Lair so popular.

Merlin sat on the counter, a group of people around him, Morgana, Arthur, Gwen and Lance to one side, huddled together. He was nervous with Arthur’s intense gaze on him, but shook it off by rubbing his hands together…and causing them to start to glow.

His routine was familiar. He’d made certain things levitate, certain  _people_  levitate, and of course there was always the popular card trick where he made them form different figures in the air---all with a flash of his eyes that always had people asking him  _how he got his eyes to change color like that_.

He knew mostly everyone thought it was somehow all a hoax, a well done one, and he was grateful for that.

“Try something different!” One of the men in the back called.

“Like what?” He asked, intrigued.

“Make the elements appear!” A woman called out, other echoing the request.

This was going to be fun.

Merlin grinned. “I need four volunteers.”

The onlookers watched, silent, uneasy.

“I’ll do it.” Arthur’s voice was strangely intense as he stepped forwards.

Merlin felt his stomach plummet to the ground.

“Us too.” Morgana reached for Gwen’s hand, causing the pretty dark skinned woman to blush scarlet, and stepped forwards.

“Why not?” Lance asked, throwing down his towel.

The crowd cheered.

Merlin felt like fainting.

He---he hadn’t thought  _they_ \----.

He was taking a risk.

He was taking a  _huge fucking risk_.

For this he had to funnel his magic  _into_  the people.

What if---what if his magic triggered their memories?

He didn’t  _want_  to trigger their memories!

He  _gulped_  at the thought of  _Arthur_  remembering.

The prince would  _flambé_ him for the Dennis debacle and the flirting with other people and trying to stay away from him!

 _It won’t happen, it_ _ **won’t**_ _happen_.

Pushing back his terror, Merlin smiled and nodded for them to stand before him, their backs to him. “For this, I’m going to funnel some of my magic into the volunteers and the elements will manifest  _harmlessly_  in them. Stand a little distance from each other please…thank you.”

There were excited whispers from the onlookers.

Merlin first went to stand behind Gwen and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Hold out your hand.”

Gwen did as told.

Eyes flashing gold, Merlin felt the magic go through him into her and a small tornado slowly emerged from her outstretched palm.

Gwen gave a little shriek in surprise but kept her hand out, palm up, as the tornado grew slightly, intensely, causing some tissue on the table to fly away.

People gasped and one brave woman came forwards and hesitantly reached out towards the tornado. “I can feel it! It’s  _real_!”

Loud applause filled the room as Merlin let go of Gwen and the girl stumbled back, looking at her now empty palm in shock, her other hand going to her head and looking at Merlin in confusion.

Telling himself she was only having a headache due to the magic being funneled through her, Merlin moved onto Lancelot and stood behind him, doing the same as he had to Gwen.

Lancelot’s hand was outstretched, and when Merlin’s eyes flashed gold there were gasps and excited whispers as a flower began to emerge from his palm. It was exotic and smelt intoxicating. It was a flower that was now extinct, but had flourished once in the time of Camelot.

Merlin made a movement with one of his hands and the flower flew into the hands of one of the closest women to the shock of everyone and hearty applause as she put it in her hair.

Morgana came towards him, eyes shining with mischief and something that made Merlin a little uncomfortable as she stood before him, cupping her hands out before her as if she  _knew_  what he was about to do.

Merlin paused, wondering if her Seer abilities had manifested in this lifetime.

Shaking off the slight worry that that gave him, Merlin put his hands on her shoulders and with a flash of gold miniature rainclouds materialized over her cupped hands, some lightning and thunder added for drama. And then it began to rain, to  _pour,_ until her hand was overflowing with water.

The cloud then disappeared, and Morgana sent Merlin a conspirator’s smile before bringing her hands to her lips and  _drinking the water_.

“Amazing!” Someone whispered.

“He’s  _better_  than Criss Angel!” Another praised.

Clearing his throat, suddenly nervous, Merlin turned to Arthur and nearly tripped when he saw the intensity that the prince was watching him with. It was as if Arthur could see no one but Merlin, as if it were only he, Merlin, and his magic in this room.

More nervous than ever, Merlin rubbed his hands together again and went behind Arthur, placing his hands on his shoulders, praying that the blonde didn’t feel the way he trembled. “And now,” he spoke, proud at himself for how strong his voice was. “For the final act of the night.”

Somehow, he knew that after this he wouldn’t be able to do anything else.

Rolling his shoulders he took in a deep breath and his eyes flashed gold.

For a second nothing happened in Arthur’s outstretched hand, for a moment Merlin didn’t even  _feel_  any power within his own body. And then it was there, and it was intense, and it was  _flowing_  truer than he’d felt it in so long.

It inhabited his body, making him warm, and journeyed rapidly, swiftly,  _purposefully_  into Arthur. The prince went stiff under his hands as the warmth flooded within him, the electric feeling causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on it, and then the barest of crackling fire could been seen on his palm before all of a sudden it exploded into the Pendragon crest.

Merlin’s eyes widened.

He hadn’t meant for that to happen.

All he’d wanted was a tongue of fire, and yet the image tattooed onto his body was now alive and aflame, batting its wings and  _roaring_  as it took flight into the air, circling around Arthur and Merlin until it was only a streak of fire and roars. And then it soared to the ground and exploded upon contact…charring the floor.

Merlin couldn’t move, didn’t even register the overwhelming applause that one had gotten him from the excited watchers.

He---his magic had never reacted so strongly---so---.

Arthur turned in his hold, and Merlin looked at his eyes, they were glazed over.

Merlin’s lips parted in surprise as he saw that gaze he knew so well. It was the same look Arthur would have in his eyes before he’d grab Merlin and either throw him in bed or against whatever firm surface was closest before claiming him over and over and over again.

Merlin’s heart raced in what he wanted to say was fear but knew it wasn’t.

“ _Gods_ ,  _Mer_ lin,” Arthur whispered, voice deep and husky, gaze hungry, needing,  _demanding_.

It was like looking upon  _his_  Arthur, his  _original_  Arthur, all over again.

Sympathy for the Devil rang out and Morgana pulled out her mobile from her pocket, not even having to look at the caller ID to know who was calling. “It’s my father.” She turned to Gwen. “Is there somewhere I can talk to him where he won’t hear the music?”

Mr. Hurt turned to Morgana. “Come, you can use my office. It’s sound proof.” He turned to Gwen. “Keep us company.”

Gwen blinked in surprise before nodding and following her boss and Morgana to the office.

Now that the show was over the customers were returning to their tables and drinks, Lancelot going back to work…all leaving Merlin cornered against the counter, with Arthur gazing down hungrily at him, gaze devouring him whole.

Funnily enough, the thought that continued to race crazily through Merlin’s head at such a time as this was:  _I thought he was STRAIGHT!_

“ _Mer_ lin?” Arthur pressed forwards, grin predatory, pinning Merlin to the counter with his own body.

“Y-yes?” Merlin stammered, unable to look away from those hungry blue orbs.

Arthur leaned forwards, voice a sexy rumble, as he brought his lips to Merlin’s ear. “Where’s your dragon tat?”

Feeling those lips brushing against the lobe of his ear, the caress of his hot breath against his skin, Merlin’s eyes closed shut and he hadn’t realized he’d whimpered softly with need until he’d heard Arthur’s corresponding hungry growl.

But just as Arthur was reaching for him, Morgana burst out of the back room and hurried towards him. “Dad’s coming home earlier than expected. We have to be home and presentable before he reaches there or we’re in big trouble.”

Arthur growled at her, at Merlin, somehow apparently blaming both of them for this situation, before returning his gaze to Merlin and smirking quite evilly.

What did it say about Merlin that it made him whimper a bit more with want?

“Open that tab,  _Mer_ lin,” he ordered silkily before reaching out and delving his fingers into Merlin’s black locks as if he  _needed_  to know how the strands felt between his fingers.

Merlin’s eyes slid closed and he  _leaned_  into the touch, mind hazy, forgetting that he was supposed to be  _fighting_  this.

A half strangled growl escaped Arthur’s throat as he pulled his hand away and turned to Morgana. “Come on.” And then he stormed out of the establishment.

“Yep.” Lancelot’s voice piped up from behind Merlin, causing him to jump and turn to him, face blushing scarlet. “That one’s  _definitely_  straight. How could I have  _ever_  thought otherwise?”

Gwen appeared by Lancelot’s side, behind the counter, smiling at Merlin. “He seems really taken with you, Merlin.”

Lancelot snorted and turned to her. “What about his cute little sister? She was all  _over_  you.”

“She was  _not_.” Gwen blushed, arranging the already arranged cups.

“She  _was_.” Lancelot pressed, raising an eyebrow. “And what was  _with_  all the sputtering and blushing?” He grinned teasingly. “I thought you said you were  _straight_.”

“I  _am!_ ” Gwen protested, not daring look at either of them, face scarlet.

Lancelot looked from Merlin to Gwen and back, before shaking his head. “You two should become housemates. I hear they have great prices on the real estate in  _Denialsville_.”

And with that he turned to tend to a customer.

Gwen and Merlin met each other’s gaze, looked away, and remained quite for the rest of the night, both shaken by what’d happened and both quite happy to live in Denialsville by believing that whatever had just happened tonight was only to be a one time occurrence.


	4. Chapter 4

Merlin looked up from where he’d been about to insert the key into the lock, seeing Gwen’s worried face as the door swung open. “Um, hullo. I came back as soon as I got your call.”

Gwen grabbed the warlock’s arm and pulled him into his flat, motioning with her head towards where Lancelot was pacing back and forth in the living room endlessly, face troubled.

“What happened?” Merlin asked, shrugging off his jacket and hanging it up, brushing his windblown hair out of his face.

“Will-I-Am,” Gwen whispered, leaning close to Merlin, worried gaze on Lancelot, who would stop pacing only to growl and then continue onward, shaking his head and grumbling to himself, running agitated fingers through his hair.

“He didn’t  _really_  end up being some fat old pervert, did he?” Merlin whispered back, eyes wide, trying to figure out what about the internet lover could have Lancelot in this state.

“Of  _course_  not.” Gwen slapped his arm for that one.

Merlin blinked, eyes narrowed. “He didn’t  _dump_  him, did he?”

Gwen shook her head once more. “He wants to  _meet_.”

“What’s the problem with that?” Merlin wanted to know, somewhat confused. “Shouldn’t Lance be  _happy_  about this?”

“Happy?  _Happy_?” Lancelot looked up and glared at Merlin, obviously having heard their whispers despite it all. “How can I be  _happy_  about this?  _How_?”

Merlin blinked once more, sure he was missing something. “You’re bloody  _in love_  with the guy, Lancelot. Why  _wouldn’t_ you want to meet him face to face?”

Gwen brought her hand to her mouth in concern as she looked between the two males, obviously worried they were about to fight.

Lancelot’s mouth opened and closed before he sighed and sat down. “What if he doesn’t like me in person, Merlin? What if I’m not exactly the guy he envisioned when we’re chatting? I mean, what if he’s disappointed or something?” He looked to the side, resigned. “It’s not like we used our pictures while chatting. He might be expecting someone  _else_.”

Merlin was sure he hadn’t heard that coming out of Lancelot’s mouth.

There was no  _way_  someone like  _Lancelot_ , one of the handsomest blokes Merlin had ever seen in his  _vast_  lifetime, could be so, so,  _insecure_!

It was almost  _laughable_.

“Oh  _Lance_.” Gwen sighed as she went and sat next to him, hand on his. “Don’t you think that Will’s gotta be wondering the same thing about how  _you_  will react to him?”

Lance looked at her miserably. “You think?”

Her expression was tender and sisterly as she nodded, reaching forwards and brushing some of his hair out of his face. “Of  _course_.” She nodded. “He probably wonders if you’ll like how he is in person as well, and it must have taken him a  _lot_  of courage to ask to meet you.”

Lance lowered his gaze. “I wanted to ask him a million times but I never butched up enough to do it.”

“See? He likes you enough to ‘butch up’ and do it himself!” Gwen grinned, trying to lighten up the mood. “And guess what? Unlike all those guys at the bar who hit on you because you’re like a Greek god, Will has never seen your picture before. He likes you for what’s in here” she tapped his forehead “and here” she tapped his heart.

Lancelot smiled slightly, turning his head to look at her. “You’re really good at this, Guinevere.”

“I like to think so.” She smiled back.

“I’m curious, though,” Merlin admitted, coming towards them. “Did you have the full mental breakdown before or  _after_  your gave him your response?”

Lancelot glared at him for the ‘mental breakdown’ part, but then took in a breath. “He asked me in an email. I haven’t written back my answer yet.”

“What do you plan on doing?” Gwen asked him, curious.

“He’ll go meet him of course,” Merlin announced, sure of it. “Lancelot is  _not_  a coward. He’s going to suck it up, go meet Will, and we’re going to tag along and make sure that  _if_  he’s a weird, fat old pervert, he has a safe way out. And if Will’s a great guy and we see them hitting it off, we’ll slink off to do some partying of our own.”

“I approve of this plan.” Gwen grinned.

Lancelot smiled at them both. “You’d do that for me?”

“No.” Merlin shook his head, smile teasing. “We’re really doing it for ourselves. We’ve been  _dying_  to know what Will-I-Am looks like, isn’t that right, Gwen?”

“That’s right Merlin.” Gwen nodded, laughing at Lancelot as he stuck his tongue out good-naturedly at them.

The young woman got up and hugged Merlin, resting her head against his shoulder, as they watched Lancelot go to the computer and begin to write his reply to Will-I-Am’s email.

“Make sure it’s a place you’re comfortable with, but not somewhere you go to all the time otherwise if he’s a stalker you’ll never be able to enjoy it again.” Merlin advised.

“Good one.” Gwen squeezed him.

Lancelot nodded his agreement to the statement as he once more began his battle with the keyboard.

“I have a  _lifetime_  of knowledge.” Merlin laughed at how they didn’t know just  _how_ long that lifetime had been.

“So why haven’t you used it to your advantage and wrapped Arthur around your little finger?” Gwen teased, giving his arm a little squeeze. “All it would take would be one shake of your hips and he’d follow behind like a puppy. A  _horny_  puppy, but a puppy nonetheless.”

Merlin’s eyes widened and he looked down at her in shock.

“ _What_?” She blushed, looking away. “You know it’s true!” The pretty dark skinned girl then pouted. “So, Morgana and Arthur’s dad must be someone important, huh? I got that vibe, that he’s a man of power.”

Merlin snorted in amusement.  _You have no idea how much power_.

“I called her, while you were walking back here,” Gwen admitted.

Merlin raised an eyebrow. “You have her  _number_?”

“Yeah.” A blush was tinting her cheeks. “She gave it to me when we met.”

Merlin looked away, trying not to pout.

Arthur hadn’t given him  _his_  number.

Not that he’d  _asked_  for it or anything.

Or  _wanted_  it for that matter.

There was a pause.

 _Gods_ , he wasn’t even fooling  _himself_  anymore!

Sighing, Merlin closed his eyes.

He was doomed.

Lancelot got up and rushed out of the living room. “I call dibs on the shower!” And with that he disappeared into the bathroom.

Gwen and Merlin exchanged grins.

The ageless warlock motioned towards the sofa and they sat down, both knowing that Lancelot + bathroom = serious waiting.

“So...” Merlin leaned forwards, arms resting on his thighs. “What did you and Morgana talk about?”

“Well, I told her about the whole Lancelot situation while he’d locked himself in the bathroom---.”

“He locked himself in the bathroom?” Merlin asked, amused.

She grinned, nodding. “First thing he did after reading the email.”

“Who would have thought?” Merlin shook his head in disbelief.

“I know…but as I was saying, I told Morgana and she wasn’t very helpful.” And yet Gwen was smiling. “Her advice was to tell him to butch up and try being a man. Said it worked all the time with Arthur.”

Merlin chuckled. That sounded like something Morgana would say when trying to ‘comfort’ Arthur.

Gwen opened her mouth to speak when her mobile rung.

Getting up she hurried to her bag and searched inside before fishing out her Nokia and blushing. “It’s Morgana.” With that she stepped out onto the small terrace to have some privacy.

 _So it starts_.

Merlin shook his head, smirking, as he leaned back against the sofa and cushioned his head with his hands.

Hearing the doorbell ring, Merlin groaned, wondering if Gwen and Lancelot had ordered takeout again. Honestly, he didn’t know how the three of them stayed in shape with the amount of takeout and unhealthy things they ate.

Yet the sight on the other side of the door wasn’t of some pimply teenager.

Merlin froze, eyes wide. “How the bloody hell do you know where I  _live_?”

Arthur smirked from where he was leaning in the doorframe. “I have  _connections_.”

Morgana pushed passed him and entered the house with a quick smile in Merlin’s direction, still talking on the phone to Gwen. She made a beeline to where the other woman was talking with her back to her.

The dark skinned girl gave a little cry of surprise as Morgana enveloped her in an easy hug from behind as a greeting, resting her chin on the blushing, surprised woman’s shoulder.

“She doesn’t waste any time.” Merlin was amused to see that some things just didn’t change, no matter how many lifetimes.

He turned to Arthur and his breath escaped in surprise to find him so much closer than he’d been seconds ago. “Uhm, uh, you should probably come in.”

Arthur smirked as he followed Merlin as the warlock slowly backed into his apartment, closing the door and locking it behind him with apparent malevolent intent.

Merlin gulped.

It was ridiculous how pubescent he was acting all of a sudden.

The door to the bathroom opened and Lancelot emerged enveloped in steam, hair wet and sticking to his face, droplets of water caressing his torso, his lower body covered only with a barely there towel.

Merlin couldn’t help it as his gaze followed the trail of a single droplet down Lancelot’s hard abs.

He managed to tear his gaze away and send Arthur a cautious look when the blonde growled at him and reached for him.

“Artie!” Lancelot grinned, noticing the blonde who’d just pulled a blushing, sputtering Merlin to him and buried his face in the warlock’s neck.

Arthur waved a hand carelessly in greeting, trailing his nose softly up Merlin’s neck.

Lancelot chuckled dirtily at the shocked expression on Merlin’s face before going to his room to change into clothes.

“What---are you doing?” Merlin asked, voice breaking slightly at the feel of Arthur’s hot breath against his neck, his hands on his hips.

“I’m not---exactly sure---actually,” Arthur admitted, tightening his hold on Merlin’s hips. “I’m not usually a hands on kinda guy.” He nipped at the pulse in Merlin’s neck in the way only Arthur knew drove him wild.

Merlin’s hands went to the front of Arthur’s shirt and clenched his fists tight in the material, feeling his knees wobble.

“But ever since the moment I first saw you I just---,” he emphasized his meaning by nibbling just a little  _harder_. “It’s as if I know your body better than I do my own, and I  _crave_  it, even during the most inconvenient of times.”

“How inconvenient?” Merlin managed to ask.

Arthur chuckled softly and rested his forehead on Merlin’s shoulder. “Sometimes, during my meetings with my father, the fantasies just come alive and I get a little  _deaf and blind_  to anything that wasn’t those images and those sounds.”

Merlin nearly swallowed his tongue.

Arthur’s voice was raspy. “It’s been a million times worse since the magic show, though. I just can’t  _not_  dream of you, beneath me, and somehow, _somehow_ , I know that if I do  _this_  you’ll be putty in my hands.”

He emphasized it by doing said act, and Merlin whimpered as his knees buckled.

Arthur, ready for this, drew him in closer so that he could feel the beginnings of an erection pressed into his hip.

Merlin knew that if he didn’t get away soon they would both forget they were in the living room and give Gwen, Morgana, and Lancelot a show they didn’t need to see.

 _Ever_.

Plus, it wasn’t fair.

 _This_  wasn’t fair.

Not to Arthur.

He was seeing flashes of the times they’d been intimate together, and he thought they were his own imaginings. The images were seducing him, were basically  _brainwashing_  him into believing that he----.

Merlin pushed away, feeling horrified and guilty, wondering now for the first time if this hadn’t happened to Arthur before. What if all the times they’d ended up together was because Arthur’s memories had subconsciously began to manifest while close to him and he’d thought they meant he was in love with Merlin?

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, voice husky, but eyes narrowed, worried, sensing the wall Merlin had slammed between them.

Merlin turned away from him, unwilling to let Arthur see his face when he knew that there was shame, worry, and guilt written on his every feature.

“I’m ready!” Lancelot announced, coming out of the room, dressed in his finest. “Let’s go! If we want to make it on time we have to leave  _now_!”

Merlin looked up at him, glad for the distraction, forcing a smile on his face. “How are you going to recognize each other?”

“Good question.” Morgana sauntered back into the room, her finger hooked in the front pocket of Gwen’s jeans, playfully dragging the blushing woman behind her.

“I told him I’d be wearing my trusty leather cuff band.” Lancelot grinned as he shook the hand on which said cuff band adorned his wrist. “And  _he_ said he’s going to be wearing a black shirt that says  **Jesus is coming! LOOK BUSY!** ” He grinned.

Gwen giggled. “I like him already.”

Merlin forced his smile in place, feeling Arthur’s confused gaze on him and ignoring it. “We should all go now. Or we’ll miss the tube.”

Lancelot’s eyes widened. “Let’s go you slowpokes!”

Merlin avoided Arthur as he hurried after his friend.

His heart heavy.

This was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

Lancelot had agreed to meet with Will-I-Am in a nightclub they’d sometimes go to. One of the bouncers was a regular in The Dragons Lair on his nights off, so with a few flirtations with Merlin he let them in with a grin.

By this time Lancelot was about to have a heart attack. The place was filled with bodies grinding up against each other, and it would be a bit harder to find Will, but Merlin guessed that that had been the plan all along. That way, if they found Will-I-Am and he ended up being some perverted old man, Lancelot and them could disappear into the crowd and hurry away unseen.

A lot of the younger people in this club had passed by The Dragon’s Lair, and women and men stopped Merlin, Lancelot and Gwen to say hi and flirt a little. But they usually stopped when they saw the glares Arthur and Morgana were giving them, although Gwen and Merlin were so deep into the conversations they never caught this.

“Do you see him anywhere?” Lancelot hadn’t been able to pay attention to anyone who’d stopped him to chat, eyes always around him, looking for the shirt that showed him who the man he was in love with was.

“I don’t see the shirt in question,” Morgana admitted, placing an arm around Gwen’s waist and pulling her towards her, glaring at yet  _another_ woman coming in their direction, stopping the female in her tracks and causing her to sigh and shake her head in disappointment before heading back in the direction she’d come.

Merlin noticed it this time though, and he grinned, shaking his head at Morgana. “I’m going to check by the bar.” He left the others on the dance floor happily, before making his way towards the place he always felt more comfortable, leaning against the counter and ordering a scotch as he allowed his gaze to slide casually over the men sitting there…

…and he froze.

Calling himself an idiot for not having thought of this before, Merlin couldn’t believe it, grinning broadly.

There, sitting at the end of the bar and looking around him a little nervously, was Will, his once best friend from Ealdor. He wore the formfitting t-shirt Lancelot was looking everywhere for, cradling a drink he hadn’t touched, and shaking his leg nervously.

Merlin’s chuckled, shaking his head, before reaching for his mobile and texting Lancelot.

_ Found him. Bar. Get your arse here. _

Snapping his phone shut, Merlin sipped on his drink, watching Will casually, his gaze brushing off every male that walked his way, nearly standing a couple of times someone came towards him, obviously thinking it could be Lancelot, and only sighing and relaxing in disappointment when he realized it wasn’t.

He looked even  _more_  nervous than Lance.

Merlin grinned into his drink as he watched Will brush off some blonde guy who tried to chat him up.

And then Will’s eyes found Lancelot as the man emerged from the bodies on the dance floor like a Greek God, but Lancelot didn’t notice him because he’d found Merlin and was stalking towards the warlock with intent. Disappointment entered Will’s eyes as he realized this, and he sighed, ducking his gaze.

“Where is he?” Lancelot asked Merlin the second he reached his side, stealing the glass from him and downing it to give him some courage, wincing as it burnt his throat on the way down.

“You owe me a drink.” Merlin told him as a matter of fact, before pointing a black-nailed finger in Will’s direction, causing the brunet, who’d been watching them curiously, to widen his eyes and blush at having been caught staring.

“He was checking you out?” Lancelot asked, eyes narrowed in jealousy, realizing that Will had been watching them.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “As  _if_  he could have taken his eyes off of you the moment you walked passed him.”

Lancelot then grinned and clapped Merlin on his shoulder before walking towards Will, whose eyes kept getting comically wide. The barman sat down on the stool next to Will and Will’s gaze went to his leather cuffband and a large grin filled his face.

“Aw! He’s cute!” Gwen’s voice to his right caused Merlin to tear his grinning gaze from the two who were smiling shyly at each other, and realize that the others had arrived by his side.

“Yeah, he is,” Merlin agreed.

Neither Morgana nor Arthur seemed impressed.

“He’s rather plain looking,” Morgana countered, resting her had against Gwen’s. “You’re much cuter, Guinevere.”

Gwen’s cheeks went hot red and her gaze ducked. “Th-thank you, Mor-Morgana.”

Merlin bit his bottom lip to keep from laughing at his friend and her predicament.

Oh, she wasn’t going to win this at all.

She wasn’t even  _fighting_  it.

Even though she swore left right and center that she was straight!

Justin Timberlake ft. T.I’s song “My Love” began to play, and Merlin looked up when Arthur sat down next to him, ordering them all a round of beers, not at all worried that he was going to be recognized. Merlin didn’t blame him though. Even if people  _did_  realize how much Arthur and Morgana looked like the prince and princess, they wouldn’t think the royals human enough to come to places like these,  _especially_  not dressed like emos.

Merlin couldn’t help but wonder  _why_  they dressed like this. In none of their previous lifetimes had the royals ever dressed anything other than their upper class lifestyle dictated it, so the fact that they’d suddenly begun dressing this way was intriguing.

While things were still tense between Merlin and Arthur from the apartment, Merlin continued to study Arthur over his beer, and the prince studied him back, both open and unabashed in their mutual appraisal. Merlin wondered what it was about him that Arthur was analyzing.

He knew that  _he_  was wondering how much of these memories were affecting Arthur’s behavior when it came to him, if this had happened in other lifetimes, and if his magic had sensed his longing and had acted on its own accord to give him what he wanted. It wouldn’t have been the first time that it would have done that.

Gwen and Morgana weren’t at all put off about being ignored by the males, they were busy giggling together, talking about their own things. They probably hadn’t even realized that the boys were silent, watching each other, the girls in their own little world, Gwen laughing at something Morgana said before leaning forwards on the stool and laying her hand on Morgana’s thigh for support.

Morgana grinned brightly.

Merlin wondered when Morgana was going to tell Gwen that she was in fact the Princess.

It would be unfair to Gwen for things to progress any further without Morgana coming clean to her.

Morgana’s eyes left Gwen and ventured onto Merlin’s face at that moment. Expression solemn she nodded and the look she gave him said  _I know_.

Merlin’s eyes widened, wondering if his face was just that easy to read or if Morgana really  _wasn’t_  telling him all she knew.

“ _Arthur_?” A female voice asked in surprise, and they all turned to see Lady Sophia Denton, dressed nothing like a lady, stop in her tracks, arm around Marcus Valiant, an oil tycoon.

“Sophia.” Arthur nodded coolly, acknowledging their presence. “Valiant.”

Valiant nodded back.

Merlin couldn’t believe it.

How could they all be so cool about this?

“What are you  _doing_  here?” Sophia asked, not detaching herself from Valiant’s side, just shell shocked. Her gaze then went to Morgana. “Morgana?” What are you two doing here? Does King Uther know that you two are here? Where are your gaurds? You know your father doesn’t let you two out without an army of guards!”

Everyone went tense.

Gwen’s eyes widened. “ _King Uther_  is your  _father_?” She whispered, turning to Morgana. “You’re  _Princess Morgana_?”

Morgana looked pained. “ _Guinevere_ …”

“ _No_.” The pretty dark haired woman got up. “I—I can’t be here.” And with that she left.

Morgana sent a glare in Sophia’s direction and hurried after the darker woman.

“Oh no, I just messed something up, didn’t I?” Sophia whispered as she watched them hurry out of the club, before her gaze went apologetically to Arthur. “I’m sorry, I’m just so  _surprised_  to see you two out of the palace.” Her gaze then rested on Merlin and she smiled beautifully, genuinely, shocking the crap outta him. “You must be the one to make this miracle come true. My name’s Sophia.”

“Merlin.” The warlock nearly squeaked in surprise at this.

“Nice to meet you.” She then turned to Arthur. “Can we---can we have a chat in private for a moment, Arthur?”

The prince nodded, standing.

Valiant detached himself from Sophia and disappeared into the crowd, giving them time.

Merlin did the same, kinda shocked and confused and needing to get away from the woman everyone was sure would become the next queen of Britain.

Still, it couldn’t be said that Merlin wasn’t curious, and he found himself heading to the bathroom and locking him in the privacy of a stall before his eyes flashed gold.

He  _needed_  to know.

In his mind he could see Arthur and Sophia off to the side, talking softly and urgently together.

_“I just can’t believe it, is all,” Sophia announced, running a hand through her hair. “You---you look different.”_

_Arthur acknowledged that by folding his arms over his chest. “What did you want, Soph? I was kinda in the middle of something when you interrupted and ruined the night.”_

_Sophia winced. “Don’t be cruel, Arthur, you know I wouldn’t have done that if I knew the situation.”_

_He nodded, obviously believing her._

_She honestly_ _**did** _ _look guilty though._

_The redhead sighed. “So, is this it? Are you_ _**finally** _ _coming out of the closet?”_

Merlin nearly choked on his own saliva.

_“I don’t, I don’t know,” Arthur admitted, looking troubled for the first time since Sophia had showed up. “I mean, I always knew I was going to have to end this farce of a relationship---you deserve to have a life of your own and to not have to hide your relationship with Valiant just to help me keep my father and the whole blasted kingdom unaware that I---that I bloody well bat for the other team…”_

_Sophia sighed and rested her hand on his shoulder. “Well, if it makes you feel better, I think Morgana’s plan has merit. If you two come out at the same time your father can’t disown you, because he’d have to do the same with her, and then he’d have no heirs.”_

_“I’ll be forcing his hand.” Arthur sighed._

_“Hasn’t he always forced yours?” Sophia frowned, pressing onwards. “You deserve to be happy, Arthur, and not have to hide because of it! So what if you’re gay? That doesn’t mean that you don’t deserve to find someone who makes you as happy as Valiant makes me!”_

_“He’s really understanding of this situation,” Arthur remarked, referring to Valiant. “I don’t think I’d be as understanding if Merlin had to play the boyfriend of someone else and we had to hide our relationship.”_

_“He understands because he loves me, knows I love him, and knows you’d probably try get into_ _**his** _ _pants instead of mine.” Sophia grinned cheekily._

_Arthur snorted at the thought._

_“He also knows that my father is a power-hungry man who, while he likes the thought of Valiant’s gazillions, prefers to think of his daughter as the future Queen, so Val won’t get daddy’s blessing to marry me.” Sophia looked sad for a moment, before shaking her head rid of those thoughts. “So, Merlin, he looks a lot like Merlin Emrys…shares the same first name and everything…”_

_Arthur smirked, blushing slightly. “He’s actually his son.”_

_“I can’t believe it.” Sophia giggled. “You’re hot for and going after the son of the man who made you realize you were gay.”_

_Arthur pouted. “That’s not the only reason I like him!”_

_“But it counts for something, doesn’t it? I mean, this is the son of the guy you’ve been having wet dreams about since before you knew what wet dreams_ _**were.** _ _And they look so alike---they’re practically_ _**twins.** _ _” Sophia giggled before raising a curious eyebrow. “Is he the reason you’ve decided you’re a Goth now?”_

_“Emo. Not Goth. Get your fashions straight,” Arthur chided, talking like he would with Morgana. “And---well---you saw him. He obviously likes this style…”_

_“So you’re dressing like this to catch his attention.” Sophia’s grin was broad and teasing. “You little_ _**vixen** _ _!”_

_“Shut the fuck up you cocksucker,” Arthur grumbled without heat._

_“Takes one to know one,” Sophia teased back._

_“SOPH!” His cheeks went amazingly red. “You SWORE you’d never bring that up again! EVER!”_

_“Sorry!” She giggled uncontrollably, arms around her waist._

_“Skank.” Arthur smiled._

_“Manwhore.” Sophia threw back, smile wide as well._

_“Not at the_ _**moment** _ _.” Arthur’s face fell._

_Sophia laughed. “I really approve of this one! Keep a good hold of him!” She then went serious, placing a hand on Arthur’s arm. “Just, you know, do this, come out, if only for yourself and your freedom.”_

_He nodded serious once more as well. “I know Soph, it’s time.”_

_She squeezed his arm and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “It was nice being your media-girlfriend while it lasted. Now, be happy, okay Arthur?” She grinned cheekily. “And invite me to the wedding!”_

_Arthur sputtered, bright red, but before he could truly think up some sort of response Sophia had slinked away to find Valiant, smile bright on her face._

Merlin blinked, the gold bleeding out of his eyes, and he leaned harder against the wall of the stall, confused and surprised and feeling guilty for letting his curiosity and admitted enough, his jealousy, make him listen in on a conversation he’d had no right to hear.

Flushing the toilet if only to keep up with appearances, Merlin went to the sink and washed his hands, looking at his reflection in the mirror, deciding that the guilt he felt could easily be detected on his face.

“Merlin!”

He turned when he heard his voice and noticed the man coming out of one of the stalls.

His eyes widened when he recognized him. “Dennis?”

“Hey.” Dennis smiled, going to wash his hands. “I—I haven’t seen you since the other night.” He still looked somewhat embarrassed as he mentioned their failure of a date. “How’s everything doing? You here with someone?”

“Lancelot is here meeting Will-I-Am,” Merlin admitted, since Dennis already knew of the quasi relationship between Lance and the ‘internet chap’. “We’re here as backup capacity.”

“Oh, that’s great, has he met him yet?” Dennis asked, drying his hands and leaning towards Merlin, smiling somewhat flirtatiously.

And Merlin began to feel a little uncomfortable and even  _guiltier_  than he had moments ago. He’d railed on and on about the giant prat that was Arthur during their date, and yet here he was with the prat at a nightclub. This wouldn’t look good at all.

Dennis leaned in further, Merlin finding himself leaning back into the sink unconsciously. “Merlin, I was wondering if you…”

“ _There_  you are,  _Mer_ lin,” a voice announced behind them, dark and displeased.

Both of their eyes widened in surprise as they turned to the sound.

“Prince  _Arthur_?” Dennis stammered, shocked silly.

“Demarco.” Arthur curtly acknowledged before turning to Merlin. “Let’s get out of here, its too crowded for my taste. Plus, Lancelot and Will seem to be hitting it off fine, and I am somewhat worried about Morgana.”

“Me too,” Merlin agreed, inching around the shocked Dennis, reaching Arthur’s side, glaring at the prince when he grabbed him and pulled him to him, giving Dennis a glare that obviously said  _MINE. DON’T TOUCH._

The warlock was about to call him on that, to tell him to let him go, but from the way Arthur’s arm tightened around him the prince knew what he was about to do and was warning him not to.

He rolled his eye and settled for looking at anything that wasn’t the dumbstruck Dennis.

“Let’s go back to your flat,” Arthur decided, turning and leading them out of the bathroom without a goodbye to Demarco. “They might have gone there.”

Merlin wanted to point out that Gwen didn’t have a key to his flat, but he just sighed, deciding that the prince wouldn’t pay any attention to him if he did. Arthur obviously wanted to go to the flat plain and simple, and suddenly Merlin was tired and just wanted to change into something comfortable and collapse on the sofa as well.

Plus, he still felt guilty as hell for having eavesdropped on Arthur and Sophia’s conversation, so, if only for tonight, he was silent and complacent and went along without any complaint.


	6. Chapter 6

Merlin awoke in pure agony.

It took him a couple of minutes for his vision to clear enough for him to realize that he was in bed in the flat he shared with Lancelot, and the wizard pouted as he tried remembering how exactly he’d gotten to bed.

He and Arthur had gone back to the flat, he’d pulled out his hidden bottle of scotch for some false courage, and then the next thing he knew he was in bed.

Merlin’s eyes widened in horror as he sat up in bed, groaning when his head hurt him like  _hell_ , but other than that the rest of his body wasn’t sore at all, and he was still wearing his clothes.

He didn’t know whether he was relieved or disappointed at the fact that he and Arthur hadn’t done anything last night.

Saying an anti hangover spell he’d created and perfected throughout the years, Merlin sighed in relief when the pain disappeared, as did the fuzziness in his brain. His legs were fine as he stood from the bed. He clenched his arse experimentally, proving that  _no_ , there  _wasn’t_ any soreness at all.

Damn.

Shaking his head, Merlin ran his hand over his head and tried to remember what had happened after he’d obviously become spectacularly pissed the night before.

He winced, remembering the stories Lancelot liked to regale him with of how much of an arse he made of himself whenever he was as royally pissed as he was sure he was last night.

_Great, now that I’m not sure I want to fight this anymore, I went and frightened Arthur away._

Growling, not sure  _why_  his life always had to be so messed up, Merlin grabbed a quick change of clothes and was about to go to the bathroom when his hand froze on the door’s handle, hearing Arthur’s voice.

Unable to believe that Arthur was  _still there_ , Merlin opened the door quietly, allowing the voices to be less muffled and easily heard.

“He’s hilarious.” Arthur was laughing from the vicinity of the kitchen. “He started telling me stories of Camelot, did this  _horrible_  dance thingy he called the Highland Trot or something, and then started telling me how much of a  _prat_  I was for making him wear some godawful hat! I’ve never enjoyed myself as much as I did last night.”

Merlin winced.

He  _really_  needed to stop getting drunk.

Lancelot chuckled. “He once told me I was too goddamned noble and should have just taken the credit ‘for the Griffin thingy’. I have  _no idea_  what he was talking about, but I just agreed and went along with it.”

Arthur chuckled.

“So what happened after that?” Lancelot asked.

“Well, he kinda vomited on the bathroom floor and collapsed right outside the door, so I dragged his bony arse to the room he’d told me earlier---repeatedly---was his, and then cleaned up the mess in the bathroom,” Arthur explained. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate coming home to it.”

“I didn’t know princes knew how to clean.”

Merlin blinked.

Lancelot  _knew_?

“As a rule we don’t,” Arthur admitted. “But Morgana always told me that I couldn’t be a prat and that if I didn’t learn to do things for myself I’d end up having someone to wipe my  _arse_  for me, and the thought was so horrifying I found myself learning to do trivial things like cleaning and cooking.”

“Talking about the princess,” Lancelot spoke. “Have you heard anything from her or Gwen maybe? I feel horrible now that I know she didn’t realize who you two were, I mean, even with the makeup and the getup it was obvious for  _me_  who you two were.”

“I got a text from Morgana around three this morning,” Arthur informed him. “She said that she was at Guinevere’s home, and that they were talking and working things out.”

“Good.” Lancelot sounded relieved. “Gwen needs something good happening in her life. Working at The Dragon’s Lair is probably the best thing that’s happened since her da went and died on her, leaving her in a pool of debt.”

“Yes, well,” Arthur hesitated. “She’s not exactly in debt anymore.”

Merlin blinked.

What exactly did that mean?

“What do you mean?” Lancelot asked, echoing Merlin’s thoughts.

“Well, after Morgana met Guinevere she had her investigated.” Arthur sounded guilty. “I told her that she shouldn’t, that Guinevere deserved some privacy. Morgana didn’t listen to me, as was to be expected, and she discovered the  _ludicrous_  amount of money the poor girl owed these seedy loan sharks, and she immediately sent one of her minions to pay off the loan sharks and warn them that if they ever went near to or threatened Guinevere again they’d have to deal with  _her_.”

Merlin was shocked.

“Princess Morgana threatened  _loan sharks_?” Lancelot sounded scarily impressed.

_A woman in love…_

Usually he did these things the normal way, but the warlock didn’t want to waste any time in the bathroom, so he magic’ed himself clean, teeth brushed, clothes changed.

Merlin dropped the clean clothes in his hand on the ground and followed the voices. “Does she realize just how bloody  _dangerous_  those scum bags are?” Why was Merlin surprised? He knew from lifetimes of experience that Morgana was utterly  _scary_  when it came to Gwen and her safety.

“Hey you.” Arthur grinned, standing up from where he’d been sitting on the stool, leaning against the counter. “I would have expected you to be having the hangover from hell this morning.”

“What?  _Merlin_?” Lancelot snorted. “Bloke can’t hold his liquor but I’ve  _never_  seen him with a hangover. It’s like  _magic_.”

Merlin decided to ignore that, stealing the buttered bread Lancelot had just finished preparing and had been about to take a bite out of.

“Hey!” Lancelot complained, pouting. “That’s mine!”

“People in love are just supposed to survive on love, not bread,” Merlin quipped, taking another bite out of the piece of bread just to spite his friend.

“What’s  _your_  excuse then?” Lancelot sniffed.

Merlin went beet red.

Arthur chuckled. “Aw, give him some slack. The bloke vomited out his guts all night before finally passing out. He needs it more than you do.”

Merlin ducked his gaze.

That was  _it_.

He was  _never_  drinking again.

“You have a point there, mate.” Lancelot was already putting another piece of bread in the toaster.

“Sit down you.” Arthur motioned for Merlin to sit next to him.

Merlin looked around him thoughtfully before sitting down as asked, continuing to nibble on his toast. “So, talking about love and all that, how did things go with Will?” He smirked. “Didja spend the night with him?”

Lancelot went beet red. “I’m not easy!”

Merlin raised an eyebrow.

Lancelot put all of his attention on buttering his toast. “Am  _not_. We just  _talked_  all night.  _Talked_. You filthy minded  _cur_.”

Merlin snorted around a bite. “ _Right_.”

“We  _talked_!” Lancelot nearly stamped his foot at Merlin. “ _Talked_!”

Merlin knew that Lancelot and Will had just talked, Will was a gentleman like that, but teasing Lancelot was jus too much fun.

“We’re going out tonight as well. To  _talk_.” Lancelot declared with a sharp nod in the warlock’s direction. “And maybe a movie.”

“Good for you, mate.” Arthur smiled.

“ _Thank_  you.” Lance nodded.

Merlin continued to chuckle, shaking his head.

“Maybe we’ll make it a double date one night, yeah?” Arthur continued, slapping Merlin up the back of his head.

“Are princes  _allowed_  to go on dates?” Lancelot wanted to know.

“Since when are we dating?” Merlin turned to Arthur, rubbing the back on his head. “You don’t know anything about me! You----.”

“After last night I think I know more about you than you think.” Arthur was suddenly serious, eyes narrowed. “I  _know_  I know more about you now than even  _Lance_  does.”

Lance raised an amused eyebrow at that. “ _Really_? Now  _this_  sounds intriguing.”

Merlin went numb in fear.

What.

Had.

He.

Done?!?

_I’m NEVER drinking AGAIN!_

“And anyway,” Arthur relaxed back into cool charm, grinning. “You told me  _all_  about your life as the warlock Merlin, and your lives as a chef, doctor, counselor, soothsayer, farmer, factory worker, air force pilot during both world wars, nobleman, carpenter, butler, landscape designer, animal breeder, fisherman, fireman, policeman, school teacher---even told me about your life as your  _father_.”

Merlin dropped the last bite of his toast as those words came spewing out of a grinning mouth, but it was the eyes shooing venom at him he recognized oh so well that left him in this stupor.

“I’ve never heard of half of those!” Lancelot exclaimed, completely unaware of the tension in the room. “And I’ve seen him drunk more times than you! I feel  _slighted_!”

“You shouldn’t.” Arthur was speaking to Lancelot, but his furious blue orbs were on Merlin. “You’ll come to find,  _Lance_ -alot that when it comes to  _Mer_ lin and I, we’re kinda special. You might call it  _destined_.”

Merlin gulped, finding his throat painfully dry. “There’s no such thing as destiny,” he whispered.

Arthur’s lips curled in a sneer. “ _Really? Mer_ lin? Is there no such thing like one’s  _word_  either? Because if I make someone promise me something I expect them to keep that promise.  _Especially if it’s to remind me of the most important thing in my life!”_

Merlin’s eyes widened in horror as before him stood Prince Arthur of Camelot.

Somehow, something he’d done last night, had brought back on the memories…and Prince Arthur was  _pissed_.

Lancelot, looking back and forth between Arthur and Merlin, realized that somehow this had turned into a private conversation. He grabbed his last piece of toast and headed to his room to catch some shut eye before having to get ready to see Will again.

“You remember,” Merlin whispered the moment Lancelot’s door closed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you disappointed,  _Mer_ lin?” Arthur asked, furious, dropping all pretense now that Lancelot wasn’t there. “You broke your promise! You  _swore_  to me that you’d find me again and you’d help me remember! You  _swore_!”

Merlin backed away as Arthur stalked him, finding himself pinned against the wall by the furious prince. “Arthur---.”

“You  _promised_!” Arthur hissed, slamming his fist into the wall next to Merlin’s head. “That’s the only way I can  _bear_  leaving you over and over again---knowing that you will find me and I’ll have another chance at loving you! But now I can’t even die in peace because I won’t be sure whether you’ll look for me or if you’ll just let me live my life  _alone and miserable!_ ”

“Ar---.” Melrin tried again.

“If I hadn’t been able to bear the loneliness anymore---if I hadn’t listened to the  _bloody Great Dragon_  telling me in a dream to find my destiny in  _his lair_ , you would never have  _come_  for me.” His voice was hoarse,  _harsh,_ and accusing as he pushed away from the wall. “You would have stood by while I married Sophia, lived a lie, and died a  _miserable old man_! All because you got  _tired_  of me.”

“ _Tired?_ ” Merlin hissed, pushing away from the wall. “ _TIRED_?”

“What else could it be?” Arthur hissed back, running his hand through his hair. “You got bored of having the same person all the time, of having to remind me, of---.”

“ _I couldn’t watch you die again_!” Merlin nearly screamed, leaning back against the wall in a near collapse.

Arthur turned to look at him in surprise.

“I couldn’t---I---,” Merlin closed his eyes tightly, lowering his head. “Every time I have to feel your hand go slack in mine---see the life draining from your eyes---I---I die inside. I--- _Arthur_!”

The prince was silent, the darkness of his features lighting somewhat.

Merlin covered his face. “I have to live  _without you_ , Arthur. Centuries sometimes before you’re born again, and I’m  _living like I’m dead because you’re not there!_ ” His hands closed into fists. “And I hate you for leaving, for making me so weak! And I hate myself for not being able to die with you! I want to die when you do! I don’t  _want_  to live if you’re not by me because  _it hurts too much_!”

“ _Merlin_ …” Arthur whispered, and then his arms were around the trembling, crying warlock, pulling him in closer, tucking him into his body, his chin resting on the top of Merlin’s head. “You little idiot,” ge whispered into his hair. “Do you think I want to leave you? I’d give my  _soul_ to be eternally by your side, never to part. You don’t think I don’t fear that you’ll find someone else during the time I am gone and you won’t love me anymore? Do you know how  _frustrating_  that is?”

Merlin, from where his face was buried in Arthur’s shirt, shook his head, clutching the material of the shirt as if to life itself.

“It’s  _agony_ , Merlin,” the prince assured him in a choked voice. “I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but you’re the first thing I remember as a child. I dream of you, constantly, and it’s  _so confusing_  because I can’t remember anything else—can’t understand why I’m dreaming of some gangly boy with a godsawful neckerchief and flashing golden eyes.”

Merlin pulled away, surprised, having never heard of this before.

“And whenever I see you for the first time it just  _clicks_  and it makes  _sense_  and even if I don’t ever regain my full memories from my past lives I remember you, I remember how you made me feel, and I remember that I was never happy when you weren’t by my side.”

Merlin was shocked.

Arthur---Arthur was a physical man who tried to avoid words as much as he could, so the fact that he was opening up and telling him these things--- _after so many lifetimes_ \---just proved to him how much this meant to Arthur, and how much it’d hurt him that Merlin hadn’t kept his promise.

Shame filled the warlock and he hid his face in Arthur’s shirt once more. “I’m sorry.”

“I---I can understand that it’s hard for you, Merlin, I  _can,_ ” Arthur whispered against his hair. “But I’m  _your_  prince, and even though you’re  _the worst_  manservant I’ve ever had, you’re the only one I’ve ever loved, and I don’t want you to  _ever_  break your promise to me again. Never. Especially not about this.”

Merlin smiled against the material of Arthur’s shirt. “Yes sire.”

“Idiot.”

“Prat.”

They both clutched at each other tighter.

Merlin closed his eyes and sighed, happy, knowing somehow that everything was going to be okay.

“Morgana will be pissed that I remembered before she did.” Arthur sounded smug.

Merlin snorted. “I actually think she might know already.”

“ _What_?” Arthur exclaimed, and then whined in a  _very_ un-prince-like tone: “Why does she  _always_  remember before I do? How is that fair?”

There was a knock on the door, and they pulled away from each other reluctantly, Merlin hesitating a second before pressing a kiss to Arthur’s chin. He went to the door and looked through the peephole. “Talking about Morgana...”

“The cockblocker,” Arthur grumbled.

Merlin snorted, amused, turning to raise an eyebrow at him. “Who said you were going to get any?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow knowingly, imperiously, gaze trailing up and down Merlin’s body.

Merlin blushed softly, looking away, body warming under that gaze.

Arthur chuckled knowingly.

There was another knock.

Merlin still paused, turning to Arthur. “What happened last night?” For some reason he just needed to know. “What did I say or do that made you remember?”

Arthur was a little tense at the remembrance that Merlin hadn’t planned on bringing his memories to the surface. “You---you’d think that it would have happened with you telling me about all of our lives together and how much of a prat I was during  _every single one_ …”

Merlin chuckled. “You  _were_.”

Arthur smirked, shaking his head, relaxing slowly. “But what made me remember was when you stopped talking, looked me in the eyes, and said: ‘My life was meaningless before you stumbled into it.’”

Merlin froze.

He remembered those words.

 _Arthur_  had told him that during his first lifetime.

It’d been his declaration of love, while they’d lain happily in his bed, after their first time together intimately. He’d whispered those words into Merlin’s hair before drifting to sleep…

“Oh.” Merlin finally whispered.

Arthur smiled. “I couldn’t even get a good yell at you afterwards though because when I finally recovered from the shock of the memories returning I found you vomiting your guts out in the loo, and then you  _fainted_ …”

Merlin groaned, embarrassed.

He didn’t think Arthur would ever let him live down the fact that he fainted.

The knocking became pounding.

The warlock shook his head, having forgotten about Morgana, and opened the door.

The princess stormed into the flat, her mascara runny, her skin paler than usual, her clothes wrinkled and her hair a mess. Her expression was somber as she looked between her brother and Merlin and then resting solely on Arthur. “You remember.”

Arthur nodded.

“Lucky  _you,_ ” she grumbled at Merlin. “Gwen still doesn’t remember  _anything!_ ”

“Since when have  _you_  known?” Arthur wanted to know, still obviously ticked that she’d remembered before him.

“Since the first time I was forced to watch a Merlin Emrys movie with you.” Morgana shrugged.

Arthur blinked. “But you were bloody  _six_  at the time!”

“It’s not _my_  fault you’ve always been  _slow_ \---in  _every_  lifetime.” Morgana sniffed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Now just wait one minute!” Arthur bellowed.

Merlin motioned for him to lower his voice. “Lance is trying to sleep!”

“Screw him!” Both royals snapped at Merlin before returning to glare at each other.

“Why so  _bitchy_ , brother dearest?” Morgana sneered. “Did I just cockblock you?”

Arthur, having  _no shame whatsoever_ , nodded, folding  _his_  arms over his chest.

“ _Good,_ ” Morgana declared evilly. “Because if  _I_  am not getting any I don’t see why  _you_  should. I’ve waited longer to find Gwen and have her as mine than you have Merlin, so if anyone has first dibs it’s  _me_.”

“You were bloody  _six_!” Arthur cried out again, somewhat horrified. “You shouldn’t have  _wanted_  to  _have_  anyone at the time!”

“ _Enough!_ ” Merlin commanded, causing the siblings to turn and look at him in surprise. He took in a deep breath, turning his attention on Morgana. “I take it the conversation with Gwen didn’t go well?”

Morgana sighed, shoulders sagging. “She understands my reasons behind it, wants to continue being friends, and who knows, maybe even ‘double date’.” She leaned against the wall in defeat. “She wants to double date! With  _men_!”

Arthur looked a teensy bit sorry for her.

“She’s confused right now, Morgana.” Merlin went to her and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. “She likes you, it’s obvious  _to everyone_ , but you’re the  _bloody Princess_ , and she doesn’t have her memories. Anyone would be intimidated by that.”

“I know.” Morgana sighed. “And father’s known dislike towards homosexuals probably isn’t helping my case.” She turned to Arthur, determined.

Arthur nodded.

Merlin wondered what they were silently discussing.

Morgana smiled and then turned to Merlin. “You’re her best friend in every lifetime.  _You_  talk to her. Make her see reason.”

Merlin opened his mouth.

“Good chap, always knew I could count on you.” Morgana grinned up and him before moving out of his grip, grabbing Arthur, and dragging her brother out of the apartment.

Merlin watched them go, a little worried about that sinister glint in Morgana’s eyes but deciding that Arthur would keep her from doing anything  _too_  extreme.

Sighing, he grabbed his jacket and keys, and left the apartment.

He needed to see Gwen.


	7. Chapter 7

“So you knew?” Gwen asked, after letting Merlin into the house, eyes and nose red, betraying what she’d been doing since Morgana had left earlier.

Merlin nodded, feeling horrible and guilty.

“Lance?” Gwen pressed.

The warlock nodded once more. “We both recognized them the moment we saw them.”

The pretty dark skinned woman sighed, reaching for another piece of Kleenex and dabbing at her eyes. “I always said my life wouldn’t be drastically altered if I didn’t pay attention to those entertainment shows and stuff. But if I  _had_  I would have realized that she was the  _princess_!”

Merlin sighed. “It’s not your fault, Gwen. If anything I should have told you when I realized that you were getting so  _close_  to her.”

“You know what the worse part is?” Gwen asked, gaze ducked. “I’ve been heterosexual my entire life, and one look at her and all of a sudden I’m  _dreaming_  of her!”

“Dreaming?” Merlin asked, eyes narrowed.

“Yeah.” Gwen nodded, running her hands over head. “I have this recurring nightmare that involves all of us---but not at first. It’s around the middle ages, and Morgana and I are living in a small cottage in the solitude of the forest. We’re together---I  _love_  her.”

Merlin frowned, unable to believe this.

“Morgana was a healer, and a seer. She would help heal the people in the village nearby, but then something happened and the people turned on her.” Gwen whispered. “I sent Lancelot to find you and Arthur, but I stayed behind to try and stop them. I---I couldn’t help her! They---they hurt her when all she’d done was help them. They called her a witch and blamed her for the plague on the village.”

Merlin looked away, wincing.

Of all the memories Gwen had to go and remember, it had to be the most traumatic.

“They hurt her so horribly, and they made me stay there and watch and I---I couldn’t  _do_  anything!” Gwen pushed off from the seat, voice trembling, eyes watering. “And then they put her up on that stake, tied her, and lit the fire all around her.”

“And they forced you to watch,” Merlin whispered.

“ _Yes_.” Gwen nodded, back to him. “The heat was so intense and she was screaming---.”

“And then I arrived with Arthur and Lancelot,” Merlin finished. “I put out the fire, but she was already burnt  _so badly_. You rushed to her side, crying.”

Gwen turned to Merlin’s gaze wide, watery, and horrified.

“Lancelot and Arthur cut her loose and I…I killed them. I killed them all,” Merlin continued, voice emotionless. “My eyes flashed gold and fire rained down from the sky. It killed everyone in the village other than you, me, Morgana, Lance and Arthur.”

“How---?” Gwen whispered, hand shaky as she raised it to cover her mouth.

“Because it wasn’t a dream, Gwen.” Merlin sighed. “It ends with Morgana dead before I could heal her, and you crying over her dead body. Her last words to you were to not cry.”

Gwen was crying openly. “I—can’t…how could that have really happened?”

“Your memories, they’re coming back.  _Everyone’s_  memories are coming back---and I haven’t done a  _thing_  this time to jumpstart it.” Merlin was a little bothered by how everything was out of his hands by now. “Usually when I find you during your reincarnations I’m the one who has to bring your memories back. I don’t remember a time when you’ve remembered on your own. And yet other than Will and Lance, who still have no clue, you three have remembered  _on your own_.”

Gwen wiped frantically at her tears. “Us three? You mean Arthur and Morgana---?”

“Arthur remembered fully last night.” Merlin nodded. “And Morgana remembered when she was six years old.”

“This---past lives---memories---reincarnations--this is  _insane_ , Merlin. Completely insane!” Gwen threw her hands in the air. “Stuff like that don’t exist! Stuff like---.”

“Like what? Like  _magic_?” Merlin asked, eyes flashing golden.

Gwen’s hand went to her mouth. “My god.”

“You were there that night at the bar, you know that what I did wasn’t a parlor trick,” Merlin pushed, if only for Morgana’s sake. “You  _felt_  it race through you. You  _know_  it.”

“But---but…” Gwen collapsed down on the sofa again, looking up wide-eyed at Merlin. “How--?”

The sorcerer sighed and sat down next to her. “Remember how Lance was saying that we all have Arthurian names?”

She nodded.

“That’s because we  _are_  the originals.” Merlin waited for her reaction.

“ _WHAT_?” She shot up once more. “I— _Arthur_?” She made up her nose.

Merlin laughed. “That didn’t happen. Gregory made up that story one night when he was drunk and bored. In every lifetime, our first one included, I have always been with Arthur, and  _you_ , you have always been with  _Morgana_.”

“Really?” Gwen’s eyes widened at that, and a faint glimmer of hope entered her brown eyes. “What about Will and Lance?”

“Nope. They change partners----this is their first lifetime together as partners.” Merlin admitted, grinning. “Took me by surprise, actually. I never even considered once that Will-I-Am could be my good friend Will.”

Gwen looked perplexed and troubled, but after a moment’s hesitation she sat down on the sofa next to him once more. “I’ve never liked women before. Never even  _considered_ …”

“I bet you weren’t exactly crazy over men though,” Merlin countered.

“I had a boyfriend or two." She pouted, but then looked up at him seriously. “So you’re not insane and neither am I? Arthur and M-Morgana both remember?” She paused. “ _Everything_?”

Merlin nodded. “Why do you think she acts the way she does around you?”

Gwen blinked. “Oh.” She smiled softly before her face fell into a frown. “But nothing can happen! She’s the princess and I---I’m nothing but a  _barmaid_.”

“I’m nothing but a barman either.”

“You’re a  _sorcerer,_ ” Gwen mumbled darkly, glaring at him. “I don’t  _have_  any special talents that could be useful to her!”

“You make Morgana happy,” Merlin countered softly. “In all of her lifetimes, Morgana has never been happy without you, Gwen.”

She looked up at him at that. “Really?”

Merlin nodded and reached over to place his hand in hers.

The dark beauty smiled softly, thankful for the comfort, before sighing. “Her father hates homosexuals.”

“He hated magic back in the day too.” Merlin snorted. “Neither Arthur nor Morgana let that affect them or their decisions in life, Arthur hand-fasted himself to me and Morgana was a seer herself.”

Gwen listened raptly. Despite her initial doubts it was obvious that she was desperate to believe this.

“Morgana loves you, Gwen, she has since she was six. She has during  _every single one of her lifetimes._ ” Merlin ran his hand over his hair. “You should have seen her this morning when she came over. She was heartbroken with you telling her maybe you two should double date---with  _guys_.”

Gwen flinched. “I didn’t mean to hurt her---I was just so  _confused and scared_.”

Merlin nodded, understanding.

The woman took in a deep, calming breath, before looking at Merlin. “Can you---can you help me remember everything? With your magic? Not just---not just that horrible event? The good as well?”

“Do you really want to?” Merlin asked, eyes narrowed.

“I want to remember, Merlin,” Gwen begged. “ _Please_ , if you can help me remember,  _help me_.”

Merlin nodded, placing his hands on her head, and then his eyes flashed golden as his magic entered her and ripped away the seal on her memories, but not before placing a protective marker there to make the remembering less painful.

Gwen gasped for breath, eyes wide.

Merlin pulled his hands away and watched her as she replaced them with her own, shaking her head, breathing haggard.

And then it was over, and she was blinking, looking at Merlin somewhat unseeingly. She then shook her head and slapped Merlin up the back of his head. “Why didn’t you do that sooner?”

Merlin winced, laughing as he rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry.”

“Arthur must be so  _hurt_!” Gwen scolded him, once more the friend from Camelot he could remember. “You  _promised_  him, Merlin! You  _promised_.”

His laughter died, and Merlin nodded. “I know. He and I have spoken about this. I---I doubt it’s the last time we’ll talk about it, or that he’s forgiven me completely for it, but it’s a step in the right direction.”

Gwen agreed, before getting up. “I gotta call Morgana. I have to talk to her.”

Merlin smirked.

Her phone rang and the woman hurried towards it. “Morgana?” Her face fell immediately. “Oh, Lance, it’s only you.” Her eyes then widened in horror. “Not that I’m disappointed its you and don’t want to talk to you! I just---!”

Merlin snorted, glad to have his Gwen back. He’d missed her.

“What do you mean turn on the news?” Gwen hurried to the remote and turned on her television, eyes widening when she saw Morgana, a foul-tempered Uther, and Arthur.

“Oh no.” Merlin got up and turned up the volume. “What did that idiot do?”

“Due to the unforeseen events, King Uther made a shocking move by approving the law for gay marriages,” the reporter was announcing into the camera. “The reason for this sudden change in heart is apparently due to the royal siblings  _both_  coming out of the royal closet to their father during a meeting with Parliament only hours ago, and yet  _another_  shocking announcement from the Crown Prince himself.”

Merlin’s eyes widened as he stood in front of the television. “What did you  _do_  this time you idiot?”

The news station then began to play a prerecorded piece of Arthur standing in front of everyone and smiling at he looked straight into the camera.

“ _I would like to thank the media for responding so quickly to our call.” He announced, smile all charming and calm. “I would like to share with the kingdom my happy news. I am engaged to the person I love, and he is expecting our first child, my heir.”_

Merlin collapsed onto the floor, eyes wide, unable to believe what he was hearing.

_There was an uproar._

_“Yes, the lady in grey.” Arthur motioned to one of the reporters._

_“Your Highness,” The reporter shook her head for a second. “Was I correct in hearing that not only are you engaged to a_ _**male** _ _but that he is somehow miraculously expecting a royal_ _**heir** _ **?** _If so, how is this possible?”_

_“Yes, you heard right.” Arthur smiled evenly. “And how it is possible? Well, miss, he’s a simultaneous hermaphrodite. Thus, he has both reproductive organs, of a male and a female. It’s a very rare, hardly ever heard of condition in humans. And, well,” Arthur grinned boastfully, “the royal seed is strong.”_

_Morgana looked like she wanted to slap her forehead._

_Uther looked like he wanted to commit murder…or suicide…whichever was quicker._

“I’m going to kill him.” Merlin’s eyes were wide in horror. “He just lied and said I was pregnant! On national television!”

Gwen’s eyes were wide. “Um, Merlin?”

“I’m going to KILL him!” Merlin growled, getting up from the floor on shaky feet. “He just—and with a SMILE—I’m GOING TO KILL HIM!”

Gwen bit down on her bottom lip to keep from laughing at his plight as a picture of him with his name and occupation flashed on the screen of the television.

Obviously Uther had only agreed to the gay marriage so that his son’s ‘heir’ wouldn’t be born a bastard---and probably Arthur and Morgana (who could be terrifying on her own) had both threatened him somehow by probably abdicating and leaving  _him_ without heirs or something if he didn’t accept this.

“Of course Lance.” Gwen laughed mischievously. “I’ll give him your congratulations and I’ll be sure to let him know you  _always_  knew deep down inside that he was a woman.”

Merlin ignored her, already plotting Arthur’s slow demise.

Hanging up, Gwen turned to Merlin once more. “Well, you _did_  offer to give Arthur an heir during the days of Camelot. You said it was possible with your magic.”

Merlin looked at her in horror. “Are you on his side? He told me no! That it wasn’t normal!”

“Well, obviously he’s changed his mind.” Gwen giggled.

“Don’t giggle! This is---this is--- _humiliating_!” Merlin threw his hands in the air. “I could get fired for a scandal like this!”

“I doubt you’ll have time to be a  _barman_  when you’re  _queen_.” Gwen burst out into laughter, arms around her waist.

“Sure, sure  _laugh it up_.” Merlin was blushing scarlet, unable to believe the position Arthur had just put him in. “I  _bet_  this is his revenge for me not returning his memory! He’s spiteful and evil like that! That—that—argh! PREGNANT!” He stamped his foot. “We haven’t even  _done_  anything! Maybe a little kissing but that’s IT!”

Gwen continued to giggle, answering the phone when it rung. “’Ello?” Her eyes then widened. “ _Morgie_.” There was a pause on the other side of the phone and then Morgana’s voice was rushed and happy and relieved. Gwen smiled. “Yes, Merlin helped me remember.” Her dark skin tinted pink prettily. “Me too, baby.”

Merlin took time out of his growling and plotting against Arthur to just watch Gwen as she smiled and blushed and talked to Morgana.

He smiled tenderly, happy to see them like this once more.

“Oh, yeah, Arthur’s as good as dead, by the way. Merlin’s already planning his demise.” Gwen told Morgana.

The sorcerer pouted.

 _Sure_ , warn the bugger.

Merlin snorted, looking away.

“What do you mean there’s a limousine waiting for us outside? What reporters?” Gwen hurried to the window and looked outside, carrying the cordless with her. “When did  _they_  get there? How did they even know where I lived or that Merlin would be here?”

Merlin went to the window and groaned when he saw the seemingly endless amount of reporters outside. “Going to  _KILL_  him.”

Gwen grinned. “Sure. We’ll see you in a couple of minutes.” Hanging up, she turned to Merlin. “Okay, freeze them long enough for us to escape. Everyone is waiting on us in Buckingham. Uther included.”

Merlin winced, hiding his face in his hands with a groan as he thought of facing Uther, and under these embarrassing circumstances. “I’m going to  _kill_  him!”


	8. Chapter 8

To say that the meeting with Uther had been uncomfortable was saying the  _least_. Merlin had never been so nervous and skittish as he had under the monarch’s angered, murderous glare. It hadn’t helped that Arthur had been a prat about the whole thing, acting like Merlin was some sort of fussy, fragile  _Pomeranian._

The only thing that the prat did good was to give his father a death glare when the king had ordered Gaius (who was his Personal Physician even in modern times) to conduct a pregnancy test on Merlin to  _ascertain_  the fact that this ‘ _boy_ ’ was in truth expecting the royal heir. Arthur had gone on and on about it being true and had declared that he’d already announced it to the people, so  _of course_  it was  _true_.

When his father had insisted on having the tests done, Arthur had compromised, asking time for Merlin to ‘get comfortable’. He’d asked for a week, and Uther had, in a show of graciousness (or maybe just because he  _really_  looked like he could do with a drink) agreed to the terms and ordered everyone out.

“I’m going to  _kill_  you” were the first words out of Merlin’s lips as soon as he, Arthur, Morgana and Gwen were able to escape that horrible, uncomfortable meeting.

“I don’t see why you’re in such a fit  _Mer_ lin,” Arthur announced calmly, leaning against the fireplace, grin mischievous. “I did what I had to to make sure that there was nothing my father could do to try and come in between us. And you’ve always been a little  _girl anyways_ , so I don’t see---.”

With a flash of gold, Arthur’s mouth disappeared.

Gwen’s eyes widened.

Morgana burst out into laughter, holding onto her waist. “Teach me how to  _do_  that!”

Arthur (who’d been trying to glare Merlin into undoing the magic) gave Morgana his best death-glare.

It wasn’t working.

Merlin was ignoring him and Morgana was still laughing.

Gwen was the only one who looked sympathetic to his cause, and only  _somewhat_.

“You could have found some other way to do it!” Merlin announced, not at all feeling guilty for his actions. “At least---at least  _warn_  me before you go on the bloody  _telly_  and announce it to the world!”

Arthur folded his arms over his chest, his eyes demanding Merlin undo his spell so Arthur could say something that would undoubtedly be arrogant and utterly  _prattish_.

“Do you  _know_  how risky this sort of spell is?” Merlin continued on ranting as he began to pace up and down. “This is deep magic, Arthur, this is  _creation_. You know better than  _anyone_  what could happen if this isn’t done right!”

Arthur looked away.

Merlin sighed, feeling guilt finally, eyes flashing gold.

Arthur’s mouth reappeared. “I thought you already had everything figured out.” He ran his hand over his hair, beginning to look worried. “You offered to do this for me during the days of  _Camelot_ , I didn’t think---.”

“You didn’t want it then. You said it was  _unnatural_ , and so I didn’t bother with more intensive studies.” Merlin sighed, falling back into the sofa. “I---I know enough basically to perform the spell, but it’s complicated, it will drain  _both_  of us, and if something goes wrong—if I lose concentration for just  _one millisecond_ , something could go horribly  _wrong_.”

“And you only have a  _week_  for Merlin to get pregnant,” Gwen reminded them. “Doesn’t stress affect spells as well?”

Morgana nodded. “Arthur, you  _idiot_.”

He ignored her, going to sit down next to Merlin. “It’ll be fine, Merlin. You’re the best sorcerer there ever was, you beat the Priestess of the Old Religion when you were  _embarrassing_  with your magic. You can do this.”

It was hard to remain pissed at Arthur when he was complimenting Merlin and being so  _nice_  all of a sudden.

Merlin sighed and rested his head against Arthur’s shoulder. “I hate you.”

Arthur smiled. “Me too.”

“We’ll help you in any way that we can," Morgana offered, pulling Gwen to her and smiling when the pretty dark skinned woman went into her arm happily, resting her cheek against Morgana’s heartbeat. “And we’ll even find a way to stall the examination if we have to.”

“And I’m sure that everything is going to work out just fine,” Gwen agreed, holding onto Morgana tightly though her gaze was on the boys. “You two have  _always_  overcome every single obstacle in your path before, and I doubt that this will be any different.”

“Course it won’t.” Arthur was apparently once more completely sure of himself and his plan, grin going lustful. “And of  _course_  I’ll put much effort in  _my_  part of this plan and bugger you nice and----.”

The mouth disappeared again.

Merlin pushed away and glared at the prince. “I like you better this way. Don’t tempt me to forget the counter spell.”

Arthur’s eyes widened in horror.

Gwen couldn’t keep it back this time, giggling.

Morgana snorted in laughter.

The next couple of days weren’t so funny though.

Mostly they were  _sore_.

That first evening Merlin had done the spell to let the one with magic to create life and sustain it, and he’d barely finished it before Arthur pushed him against the wall and…err…

…moving on…

The next couple of days had been spent with the prince and the warlock buggering the hell out of each other and eating every single known aphrodisiac and plant known to help with pregnancy (magical or not). It was hella fun, but when the end of the week came and Merlin performed the spell on himself, he’d been shocked and disappointed to realize that he was  _not_  pregnant.

He’d thought---he’d honestly thought---that he’d sensed new life growing, and yet it had obviously been his hopeful wishes.

Morgana had feigned an ‘exotic and utterly rare near death sickness’ (as she liked to call it) at the end of the week to keep an amused looking Gaius busy. Uther, though, seemed to believe that his daughter was at ‘death’s door’ and spent most of his time with her in her room. Gwen, who spent most of her time there as well, had told Merlin that the king was actually beginning to warm up to her a little.

Of course, that could be because Morgana had used her faked illness (bringing fever and other such things upon herself by the use of certain herbs) to guilt trip Uther in the way only she could…but it was still a  _start_.

She had Uther wrapped around her deceitful, little finger, just as she always had.

It was utterly  _pathetic_.

And  _funny_   _as hell_.

Thankfully, Morgana kept Uther and Gaius busy, but when three more weeks passed and  _nothing_ , the princess ordered Arthur and Merlin to at  _least_  have the decency to stage a  _miscarriage_  as she  _refused_  to continue in bed anymore, sweating like a pig and vomiting out her food when she could be doing much more agreeable things with her girlfriend.

Not sure how they were going to do this, Merlin and Arthur spent that night just  _talking_  and trying to come up with a game plan. Arthur had finally admitted that  _maybe_  he should have thought his plan through a  _little_  more than he’d done at the announcement. That gave Merlin no comfort as they fell asleep wrapped in each other’s arms, with  _still_  no idea of what they were going to do.

The next morning they’d decided to tell the king the truth.

Kinda.

Maybe.

If they didn’t chicken out first.

Merlin thought it was an idiot’s plan to tell the truth (thus it went without saying that it was Arthur who had obviously come up with said plan) and he  _continued_  to call it so in his mind as they stood before the throne and a glaring Uther, both feeling queasy with the situation.

“What is it that you had to tell me that was necessary to be done in secret and away from your ailing sister’s bedside?” Uther wanted to know, glaring at his son.

Arthur took in a discreet breath before clearing his throat. “Father, I have something I need to tell you.”

Uther’s eyes narrowed, going to Merlin immediately, as if  _sure_  that his eyes could pierce the defenses of the warlock, before shrugging it off when Merlin remained unmoved, the king’s gaze returning to his son like heat seeking missiles. “What have you done  _now_?”

Arthur winced. “It is about the heir.”

Uther sat up straighter, many different emotions crossing over his face. “Is the child healthy? I---I must admit that with our dear Morgana’s battle for her own life with this mysterious ailment I had managed to  _forget_  about the heir.”

Merlin had never felt as guilty as he did, seeing the worry in the King’s eyes at the moment.

Uther obviously didn’t care for the situation, but the thought of a grandchild had apparently wormed itself into his heart sometimes during Morgana’s ‘convalescence’.

“How have you been feeling?” Uther asked Merlin, seemingly to genuinely want to know the answer. “Are you in want of something?”

Okay, Merlin was beginning to freak out a little and felt guilty as  _hell_.

“Father, Merlin---Merlin isn’t---he isn’t  _pregnant,_ ” Arthur stuttered out the words.

King Uther went still.

He looked murderous and…

“Oh god,” Arthur whimpered before doubling over and vomiting on the crimson carpet beneath him.

Merlin’s eyes widened in surprise the same time Uther’s did, and the sorcerer hurried to Arthur’s side, placing his hand on the small of Arthur’s back, rubbing it in circular motions as the prince continued to moan and  _vomit_.

“Fucking  _great,_ ” Arthur groaned when it was all over, leaning his head against Merlin, obviously tired, shaky, and pale.

Well, at least now Arthur couldn’t continue to taunt Merlin about the time  _he_  threw up while bloody drunk.

“How are you feeling now?” Merlin asked Arthur, worried and knowing that it showed. “You’ve been feeling sick for a couple of days now.”

Merlin had just chocked it up to nerves, but now he was really beginning to worry.

Neither noticed Uther’s narrowed gaze on them.

“I’m fine.” Arthur sighed, seeming to draw energy from Merlin, eyes closed. “Just no one mention  _peas_.”

Merlin blinked, confused, not exactly sure what peas had to do with anything. “Okay?”

Uther’s eyes widened slightly.

“And while you’re being so uncommonly  _agreeable_ ,” Arthur sighed and he took in a deep breath. “I want some pecan pie.”

“ _Pie_?” Merlin squeaked, not exactly sure  _what_  was going on with Arthur, but dreadfully worried, forgetting completely about the king.

“My god,” Uther gasped.

Both turned to look at him.

The king stood from the throne. “You lied to me!” His hands clenched as he took a couple of hurried steps towards them before looking at Merlin. “You’re not pregnant!” He then turned to Arthur. “ _You_  are!”

And suddenly it all fell into place for Merlin.

This was why he’d felt new life being created and why the spell had said that  _he_  wasn’t pregnant.

The warlock blinked, looking at a pale Arthur.

Well,  _this_  was an unexpected turn of events.

“What?  _Pregnant?_  Me?” Arthur scoffed, horrified. “Father, how could you---?”

“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Uther exclaimed, standing before them. “When your mother was pregnant with you she vomited at the mere mention of peas! And the only thing she craved was  _pie_. Though, in her case, it was  _Sheppard’s_  pie.”

Arthur opened his mouth to continue denying it before suddenly going abysmally pale and turning to Merlin, finally realizing what the warlock had figured out already. “I’m going to  _kill_  you!”

And Merlin, not at all fearing for his life, burst out laughing.

Karma had come back and bit Arthur in his arse.

It was about  _time!_


	9. Chapter 9

Due to the fact that it had been a magical pregnancy and not a normal one, the Royal Waist had not suffered.  
  
The best way Merlin could describe it was that there was no  _baby per se_  growing inside of Arthur, but the Warlock and the Prince’s life-forces were tied together inside of him, like a knot, warming and expanding and creating the magic of life…  
  
…even if that life were just translucent, glowing energy.  
  
Considering the fact that Uther  _knew_  it was impossible for his son to be pregnant,  _normally_ , Merlin (still fearful of the king), Morgana, Arthur and Gwen had had to have a long, private conversation with him in his rooms. He’d been silent, eyes narrowed, as his two children spoke to him about what was going on, and it shocked everyone when he quite easily accepted that magic was to blame.  
  
It wasn’t the whole ‘burn the witch!’ attitude he’d once had, but a tired shrug he nodded and admitted that he had had many dreams of his time as King Uther of Camelot. He’d just thought for years that it was his mind trying to warn him about mistakes he might be making, but, well, listening to the other’s accounts and able to finish them with his  _own_  memories, Uther was forced to admit to the truth that they were his  _memories_  and not merely  _dreams_.  
  
Another surprising thing was the fact that Uther seemed quite  _relieved_  that magic was the thing responsible for this. In his mind that meant that his children weren’t  _gay_  but they had  _destined soulmates_ , and since one couldn’t pick the genders of said destined soulmates, then it really wasn’t  _their fault_.  
  
So, in his mind, Uther convinced himself that his children  _really weren’t_  gay, and it made him extremely happy.  
  
Neither Morgana nor Arthur had the heart to burst his bubble.  
  
Thankfully though, after this Uther was quite agreeable, or, well, as agreeable as Uther could be, doting on his (clearly annoyed and suffocated) son, ordering baby things and dedicating a whole wing of the palace to the unborn child, and demanding that his heir not be born  _illegitimate_.  
  
Of course, when Uther had announced over dinner that he had already sent out invitations for the wedding that Arthur and Merlin hadn’t even really  _thought_  about, Merlin had instantly choked on his sip of wine, and Arthur had been torn between whacking him in the back and arguing with him father.  
  
Unfortunately, despite that fact that this  _wasn’t HIS_  wedding, Uther was very invested in this affair, having already hustled Gaius into the planning, both men creepily  _enthralled_  with choosing the color themes and such. Arthur had tried to argue that this was both  _his and Merlin’s_  wedding and baby, and  _they_  should choose whenever they wanted to tie the knot, but with one raised eyebrow from Gaius the prince quieted and backed down.  
  
Everyone knew to fear the Eyebrow.  
  
Of course, it didn’t help that Lancelot and Will were too into each other to really give a damn about what was happening to Merlin and Arthur,  _or_  that Morgana and Gwen were somehow pulled to the dark side by promises of being in charge of different aspects of the wedding, so Arthur and Merlin really were on their own in the whole matter.  
  
“It’s not that I don’t want to marry you,” Arthur admitted as he lay in bed one night, making Merlin rub his feet, a ‘pregnant’ routine he quite enjoyed and abused often. “It’s just that I want to do it on  _my_  terms! Not with my father personally overseeing the bloody  _flower arrangements_  or Gaius pouring over what we should  _wear_ , Morgana’s in charge of our reception  _or_  Gwen in charge of the Catering, starting up her own bloody business and using  _our wedding_  as a starting job!”  
  
“Well, thinking about it at a business angle, it’s a really career opportunity for her, you know, catering to the Royal Wedding,” Merlin defended, working his fingers over a particularly hard muscle. “You can understand why she jumped to the opportunity when Uther mentioned it to her.”  
  
“Bloody father,” Arthur growled, having quickly come to the moody aspect of the pregnancy.  
  
Then again, Arthur was naturally moody, so Merlin  _really_  suspected that Arthur was using the pregnancy as an excuse to be as much as a prat as he wanted without anyone daring to call him on it, blaming it on ‘hormones’.  
  
Well, everyone but Morgana and Merlin.  
  
As stated above, Merlin clearly believed that Arthur was abusing the power this pregnancy gave him.  
  
Morgana, on the other hand, just thought Arthur was a whiny bitch and that finally he was slipping up and letting people other than  _her_  see his true side.  
  
“Do you remember our Hand-Fasting ceremony? The first one?” Arthur’s voice went nostalgic, surprising Merlin with the abrupt change in subject.  
  
The Warlock smiled and nodded, ending the foot massage and losing himself in the beautiful memory. It had only been him, Gwen, and Morgana, the latter having been the one to perform the ceremony with Gwen as their witness. They’d performed it by the lake on a starry night, with fireflies providing magical light around them and crickets the music.  
  
“Why can’t we do something like that again?” Arthur wanted to know, tugging Merlin into bed with him and sighing as his warlock curled around him, resting his head on the prince’s chest, ear against his beating heart. “It was so small and simple, but it was solemn, and magical, and it meant so  _goddamn much_ …”  
  
Merlin was silent, letting Arthur vent, the prince’s arm around him somewhat tense as the blonde’s fingers found the skin at the small of his back, exposed slightly by his shirt. The dark haired man shivered slightly at the feel of Arthur’s calloused fingers as they trailed softly over the skin.  
“But this wedding feels so much like something we’re only agreeing to, to please my father and the kingdom.” Arthur let out a huff of annoyance, trailing his hand upwards, dragging Merlin’s shirt as he did so.  
  
Merlin’s breath hitched slightly, closing his eyes at the delicious sensation.  
  
“And you’d think that our friends would understand that and be  _supportive_ , but they’ve joined the enemy’s ranks!” Arthur continued to complain, now trailing his fingers downwards, harder, those fingers slipping in under the waistband of Merlin’s pants.  
  
The warlock moved his head so that his whimper was smothered by Arthur’s shirt, yet he was unable to stop the way his hips jutted out forwards instinctively, or the way he was hardening embarrassingly fast.  
  
Surprisingly enough, Arthur was too deep in his rant to even realize it.  
  
“And don’t get me started about the  _news coverage_  this whole thing has generated, what with you supposedly expecting the Royal Heir and all. And we can’t leave the palace without people either coming up to us and condemning us as sinners and ruined the country by having dad agree to the gay marriage law, or coming up to gush at us about how happy they are for us and how we’ve helped  _them_  or inspired  _them_ …”  
  
His hand trailed up the curve of Merlin’s arse, his middle finger dipping temptingly…  
  
Merlin’s breath hitched, and while he knew this was important and that his prince needed to get it off of his chest, Merlin was only human…kinda.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
“Yeah luv?” Arthur gave a little yelp, clearly unprepared for Merlin to grab hold of the front of his shirt and tug him over violently so that he was laying on top of the warlock.  
  
But then he recognized that look in those blue eyes and Arthur grinned lecherously, forgetting his complaints as he reached down and claimed the warlock’s lips.  
  
There were no more complaints when he was finished with Merlin, the prince falling asleep with a huge smile on his face, drawing his lover to him even in sleep and having the best night sleep that he’d had in a long time.  
  
Which was good, because the next days were grueling, and in the end, he just succumbed to the idea of  _not_ fighting this, just glad that he had his father’s approval and that he was making sure everyone in the kingdom knew that Merlin was his.  
  
There was no need to say that the wedding was the Ceremony of the Century.  
  
Merlin had refused to wear the dress Arthur had started to teasingly try to force him to wear, saying Merlin  _was_  the ‘girl’ of the relationship---but when Merlin reminded Arthur  _who_  was the  _pregnant_  one---well…there were no dresses.  
  
And Arthur got back at Merlin for that, showing him, quite  _thoroughly_  against the wall of the changing room, how  _very_  much a man he was.  
  
Merlin, a little sore but completely boneless with pleasure, decided to use that taunt on Arthur more often.  
  
So, the wedding went off without a hitch and the reception was lovely, the food wonderful. Arthur and Merlin enjoyed themselves despite the full attention of the room being on them constantly, especially the special members of the press who’d been allowed to cover the very important function.  
  
Everyone from The Dragon’s Lair was there as well, and Merlin had been surprised to discover that John somehow knew Uther. Neither commented how or from where, but they obviously hadn’t seen each other in years, and Uther had been intrigued at how Merlin had been working at John’s pub when he’d met Arthur.  
  
The king had given the now married Crown Prince and Prince Consort a long look before snorting, shaking his head, and murmuring something about how the bloody dragon had done it  _again_ , before going off with John, laughing as they spoke about the ‘Good Old Days’.  
  
Merlin raised and eyebrow, following them curiously, wondering about the comment.  
  
His blue gaze was on John.  
  
He couldn’t have been----dragons couldn’t--- _could_  they?  
  
As if reading his thoughts, John turned towards him and winked.  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened, as he sat back on the seat, and just shook his head before chuckling at himself.  
  
After the wedding, Arthur and Merlin retired to one of the countryside manors. The excuse had been for them to spend time alone for their honeymoon, and so that Merlin could rest during the next phases of his ‘pregnancy’. They were still keeping up the farce of  _his_  being the body hosting the new heir because Arthur  _refused_  to let anyone else know otherwise.  
  
They enjoyed their time hidden from the eyes of the public, only having each other and the energy growing to think about. They’d been apart for so long, and while Arthur  _still_  hadn’t completely forgiven Merlin for breaking his promise during this lifetime, they were able to work through a lot of their issues.  
  
Gwen and Morgana, along with Lancelot and Will (who  _still_  hadn’t recovered their memories) visited them often, the friends all laughing and enjoying the time together in the manor. Will had moved into the flat with Lancelot now that Merlin had moved into the Palace, and both males looked flushed with happiness at this new advancement in their undeniably cute relationship.  
  
It never ceased to shock Merlin though how insecure  _Lancelot_  was, though.  
  
The man turned heads every time he  _breathed_ , could have any person he  _wanted_ , and yet he was incredibly jealous of Will and anyone who paid any attention on him. He seemed not to realize that people were mostly talking to the plain Will because they were interested in getting closer to  _Lancelot_ , and saw in every person a rival whom Will might like better than him.  
  
Will looked pleased, if not completely bewildered, by this.  
  
“What do you think it is?” Arthur asked one night as the spouses walked in the gardens, under the bright, full moon.  
  
“What  _what_  is?” Merlin asked, looking up from the roses he’d been sniffing.

  
“The  _baby_  you  _knubskull_.” Arthur scoffed in disgust, rolling his eyes at his lover. “What else?”  
  
“Oh.” Merlin straightened immediately, looking at Arthur as he glowed slightly in the darkness, that ‘pregnancy glow’ an actual thing when he was the vessel that harbored living, growing, magical energy. “Uhm, I don’t know. Does it matter?”  
  
“Does it…?” Arthur shook his head at Merlin. “Of course it matters!”

  
“Why?” Merlin asked. “Whatever it is it’s our child, and we’ll love it.”

  
Arthur’s ire decreased with that reasoning.  
  
Pursing his lips slightly he narrowed his eyes speculatively. “What about names?”

  
Merlin grinned as he ran his hand over his hair. “I don’t know…I---I really don’t know much about names and all that. You could pick it and I’ll agree with whatever you decide.”

  
Arthur frowned. “I’m bugger at that. Every single dog I had from childhood to adulthood was named  _Percy_. I just kept adding I, II, III, or IV as a suffix to differentiate between them all.”

  
Merlin blinked. “How many Percy’s were there?”  
  
“I stopped getting dogs after Percy IX passed away,” Arthur replied, turning to look towards the palace at the memory.  
  
“Oh.” Not exactly sure what to say about that, Merlin cleared his throat and joined his husband’s side. “How about we get a puppy when the baby’s old enough to play with it? I always wanted a Labrador.” He cleared his throat once more and looked down at his shoes. “We could always call it Percy X.”  
  
The side of Arthur’s lip rose in a crooked smile as he turned his head to look at Merlin in tender regard. “You’re still such a  _girl_ , Merlin.”  
  
“Oh shut up," Merlin grumbled, smiling at his shoes.  
  
But it was no laughing matter when, at the end of the nine months, the ‘labor’ began.  
  
While actual labor wasn’t on the menu, and Arthur would  _not_  be pushing out any new being from orifices it shouldn’t be coming out of, the magical tie, uniting Merlin and Arthur together, sparked and inflame deep inside of Arthur where it was knotted and joined. His body cramped, feeling like he was on fire within, as raw magic scorched and burned.  
  
He wondered if his mother had felt anything like this when giving birth to  _him_. But considering that his mother had died during childbirth, Arthur decided to push that thought out of his mind and just squeeze the  _hell_  outta Merlin’s hand, cursing him and swearing to  _never_  forgive the warlock for putting the idea of having a child in his head.  
  
Merlin, worried and with a probably broken hand, easily took the abuse and stayed by Arthur’s side for the hours the magic took to fully form the being they’d call their child, and materialize it ever so slowly on swaddling blankets of purest silk in the cradle laid out for it.  
  
He wiped Arthur’s sweating, feverish brow, not being able to do much more since his power was compromised at the moment, all directed to that connection inside of Arthur, finishing the masterpiece.  
  
Outside Uther paced endlessly up and down, remembering his past life as King of Camelot and how he’d lost his beloved Igraine to so similar a circumstance as this. And yet his son was in a much more perilous situation than his dear wife had been!  
  
John sat propped by the window, reading calmly, chuckling every single time Arthur’s voice could be heard growlingly threatening to do harm to bits of Merlin  _everyone_  knew he’d miss if he followed through.  
  
Gwen and Morgana sat together, Gwen clutching Morgana’s hand tighter every single time she heard a whimper, cry or curse, going paler and paler, nibbling nervously on her thumbnail.  
  
Morgana on the other hand, tried to comfort her partner by assuring her that Arthur was just a whiny little ‘nancy boy’ who couldn’t take pain and that it probably wasn’t as bad as he was making it sound.  
  
Lancelot and Will didn’t seem to believe her though, and even though they knew this was a magical pregnancy, one that was impossible for either to experience, both went pale and couldn’t look at each other without wincing visibly.  
  
“WHEN WILL IT END?!?” Uther nearly tore at his hair, unable to take much more of this.  
  
It ended six hours later.  
  
When the screaming and cursing and threats died down, Gaius appeared from the room, where he’d been overseeing the astounding event, and announced to the group that’d risen as one when he’d appeared that a prince had been born to the throne of Great Britain.  
  
Gaius looked in shock, but intensely amazed and happy as he delivered this news, Merlin appearing behind him, a bundle of sleeping splendor cradled carefully in his arms.  
  
As one everyone flocked around him, cooing softly at the sleeping baby with golden curls adorning his head.

  
“How’s my son?” Uther asked Merlin, managing to tear his gaze away from his beautiful, perfect, miraculous grandson.  
  
“Tired, he’s sleeping, but he’ll be fine when he wakes up.” Merlin grinned brightly.  
  
“Oh  _thank heavens_.” Uther sighed in utter relief.  
  
“He’s so  _beautiful,_ ” Gwen cooed.  
  
“Congratulations Merlin my hand.” Lancelot clapped him softly on the shoulder.  “He’s a beautiful little tyke! And he didn’t get your ears!”  
  
“Oy!” Merlin laughed.  
  
“What did you decide on naming him, finally?” Will wanted to know.  
  
“We had a lot of months to pour over baby name books or search the web since we’re both horrid when it comes to this.” Merlin grinned. “But we settled on Brendan Albion Emrys Pendragon.”  
  
Morgana’s face lit up. “Prince of Britain and Eternal Son of the Dragon.”  
  
“I approve,” John announced, chest puffed out. “I always knew it’d end like this.”  
  
Uther raised an eyebrow at him. “You always knew your bartender would bugger my son and impregnate him with his magic  _sperm_?”  
  
Morgana, Will and Lance burst out laughing at the last two words.  
  
Gwen had to bite down her bottom lip to keep from joining in.  
  
Merlin, blushing to his ear, ducked his gaze to his son. “Come on Brendan, let’s leave these people and go see daddy. He’ll be a bigger prat than normal if he wakes up and we’re not there.”  
  
He entered the room, closing the door, and held his son, looking down into his perfect little sleeping face, deciding that Brendan took after his prince father nearly completely. Only thing was that his skin was alabaster white like Merlin’s.  
  
The Warlock sat like that for hours, rocking his sleeping son and sending tender looks at his snoring, exhausted husband, before finally sleep overcame him as well and he put the child in the crib and went to bed.  
  
Almost immediately Arthur’s body sought him out, arms wrapping tightly around his waist and burying his face in the back of Merlin’s face.  
  
The warlock smiled happily, closing his eyes.  
  
He knew that the baby would begin crying soon for food, but he’d just conjure the solution Gaius had promised to have premade and left in the kitchen for whenever Merlin needed it. The warlock would tend to his son tonight and let Arthur rest.  
  
He deserved it.  
  
“ _Love you,_ ” Arthur murmured sleepily against his hair, tightening his grip on Merlin. “ _Idiot_.”  
  
Merlin chuckled sleepily. “Love you too,  _Prat_.”  
  
Pressing a kiss to the back of Merlin’s neck, Arthur drifted back off to sleep, and even though Brendan took that moment to decide he was hungry and let out a loud, demanding wail, Merlin smiled as he slipped out of bed.  
  
It was the first night of his best lifetime yet, and as he looked down at Arthur, and then went to pick up the crying Brendan, Merlin decided he couldn’t wait to make to start making memories again.

It would be a couple of years before Merlin and Arthur realized Arthur had stopped aging, and even many more years until Brandon stopped aging after his 21st birth (similarly to his brothers Royce and Griffith upon their 21st birthdays). In time Merlin would come to realize (after a LOT of research) that the magic used to tie him and Arthur to facilitate the creation of their children during Arthur's subsequent 3 pregnancies had tied together the family in immortality.

Merlin would no longer be alone, awaiting the reincarnation of his loved ones, foreve, having to survive on mere memories to get him through centuries of solitude.

Now his family were immortal as well, and would be by his side forever.

Of course, as stated before, Merlin didn't realize that amazing truth  _right now_ but even without this groundbreaking revelation, Merlin was happier than he'd ever been as he finished feeding Brandon and got back in bed to press a kiss to a sleeping Arthur's lips.

Peeking between his snoring child and his snoring husband, Merlin smiled and closed his eyes, never even suspecting the wonderful future that awaited them together for eternity.


End file.
